<p 


B 


HELEN   LEESON: 


THE  BELLE   OF   NEW  YORK. 


Rebel  not  against  the  mysterious  decrees  of  Providence :  from  their  darkneM 
may  burst  forth  the  light  of  love  and  happiness. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

JOHN  E.   POTTER   AND   COMPANY 

617  SANSOM  STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1855,  by 

PARRY  A  MCMILLAN, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 

STEREOTYPED  I1Y   L.   JOHNSON   AND  CO. 
PHILADKLPHJA. 


PREFACE. 


GENTLE  READER: — It  is  not  without  emotion — nay, 
fear — that  we  offer  you  this  first  emanation  of  our  pen, 
particularly  as  the  subject  we  have  selected  is  one  most 
difficult  to  treat,  in  consequence  of  its  having  been  so 
often  delineated. 

Many  have  pointed  out  and  criticised  the  errors  of  our 
society,  but,  too  frequently,  with  that  tinge  of  bitter  sar- 
casm which  renders  all  censure  unproductive  of  a  beneficial 
result.  We  have  adopted  a  different  plan  ;  and,  in  reluc- 
tantly raising  the  vail  which  conceals  the  weaknesses  of  our 
fashionables,  we  have  endeavoured  to  display  those  bril- 
liant tints  of  refinement  and  elegance,  of  true  kindness 
and  noble  devotion,  which  lend  so  pure  a  light  to  the 
picture. 

Our  only  motive  in  thus  exposing  to  the  public  gaze  the 
smiles  and  frowns  of  our  home-circles,  has  been  a  feeling 
of  love  and  charity — an  earnest  desire  to  promote  that 

2057014 


4  PREFACE. 

improvement  which  would  secure  for  future  generations 
happiness  and  stability,  and  spare  them  the  aching  trials 
which  modern  extravagance  must  necessarily  hring  in  its 
train.  The  attempt  may  be  termed  presumptuous — the 
result  a  failure.  Be  it  so.  We  will  bear  your  criticism  in 
meek  humility,  satisfied  with  the  blessed  hope  of  having 
contributed  our  mite  toward  that  great  work  of  regenera- 
tion to  which  all  the  energies  of  the  human  mind  should 
ever  tend. 


HE  LEE"    LEESOE": 
THE    BELLE    OF   NEW    YORK. 


CHAPTER  I. 

NINE  o'clock  was  striking  in  one  of  our  fashionable 
mansions  in  Fourteenth  Street,  on  the  10th  of  Decem- 
ber, 18—. 

"It  is  late,  Anna,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson  to  her  youngest 
daughter,  who  sat  absorbed  in  the  book  she  was  reading. 
"  Helen  must  be  ready  by  this  time.  Bun  up,  my  darling, 
and  see." 

Obedient  to  the  maternal  injunction,  the  young  girl 
rose,  but  run  she  could  not,  for  she  was  lame ;  and  as  the 
eye  of  the  mother  followed  the  tottering  step,  a  sigh  burst 
from  her  lips. 

Mrs.  Leeson  was  a  woman  of  forty :  she  had  evidently 
been  handsome ;  but  the  pressure  of  grief,  more  than  years, 
had  furrowed  her  brow  at  an  early  period,  and  her  coun- 
tenance betrayed  an  expression  of  sadness  which  seldom 
left  it. 

Still,  there  was  nothing  stern  in  that  melancholy  look. 
A  kindness  of  heart,  which  was  reflected  in  her  benignant 
eye,  was  the  predominant  feature  in  Mrs.  Leeson's  disposi- 
tion, and  by  all  who  approached  her  she  was  beloved  and 
respected. 

Of  the  causes  which  produced  that  careworn  expression 

5 


6  HELEN  LEESON: 

•we  will  speak  hereafter.  Let  us  first  introduce  to  our 
readers  the  other  members  of  the  family  circle  who  met 
around  that  blazing  Liverpool  fire.  Near  Mrs.  Leeson, 
who  was  knitting  by  a  large  round  table,  sat  a  middle-aged 
lady,  her  sister,  Miss  Seraphina  Marsy,  one  of  the  brightest 
exceptions  to  that  erroneously  established  rule  of  cross  old 
maids.  In  appearance,  Miss  Marsy  did  not  in  the  least 
resemble  her  celestial  namesake ;  in  fact,  sne  could  be 
called  homely  ;  and  her  deficiency  in  feminine  graces  was 
made  the  more  vivid  from  their  strange  and  incongruous 
association  with  her  name.  No  doubt,  some  seraphic  vision 
had  induced  Mrs.  Marsy  to  give  her  child  this  appellation, 
which,  had  she  not  been  gifted  with  unusual  good  sense  and 
intellectual  resources,  would  have  proved  a  positive  annoy- 
ance. Miss  Seraphina,  or  rather  Aunt  Seraph,  as  our  love 
of  her  many  virtues  will  soon  induce  us  to  call  her,  was  a 
clever,  (English  clever,)  intelligent  woman,  whose  whole  life 
had  been  filled  with  deeds  of  benevolence ;  not  of  that  mere 
metallic  charity  which  relieves  the  wants  of  the  body,  but 
of  that  true  milk  of  human  kindness  which  feels  and  finds 
the  way  to  the  suffering  soul,  and  provides  a  substantial 
nourishment  for  spiritual  as  well  as  temporal  cravings. 

Her  life  of  single  blessedness,  which  had  been  entirely 
optional,  afforded  her  many  valuable  momenta  of  leisure, 
•which  she  devoted  to  study.  She  loved  literature  and 
music.  The  fine  arts  were  her  favourite  topics.  She  had 
written  many  pages  of  eloquent  sentiment,  addressed  to 
that  mysterious  void  which  to  all  poetical  minds  is  so  full 
of  animation.  Upon  rare  occasions,  these  productions  of 
Aunt  Seraph's  pure  spirit  were  brought  to  light — but 
seldom,  very  seldom ;  for  of  all  horrors,  that  of  being  styled 
a  blue-stocking  was  what  her  modest  shrinking  nature 
most  dreaded. 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  7 

Sad  it  is,  that  one  should  be  compelled  to  turn  from  the 
pencilling  of  these  delicate  features  of  feminine  character, 
to  take  a  look  at  the  darker  traits  of  our  fallen  humanity! 

On  the  other  side  of  the  table  sat  Mr.  Leeson :  Robert 
Leeson,  Esq. — the  owner  of  that  splendid  establishment; 
and  its  gorgeous  magnificence  scarcely  superb  enough  to 
satisfy  the  »desires  of  that  pride  which  betrayed  itself  in 
every  feature  of  his  countenance,  leaving  in  its  train  the 
inevitable  stamp  of  care  and  unquenchable  ambition. 

Mr.  Leeson  was  reading  the  newspaper,  but  seemed  evi- 
dently annoyed,  for  frequent  expressions  of  irritation  dis- 
turbed the  whispered  confab  of  the  two  ladies. 

"Nine  o'clock!  what  can  those  girls  be  about?  Does 
Helen  know  I  must  be  at  the  club  at  ten?" 

"Yes,  my  dear;  but  to-night  is  Amanda's  ball,  and  you 
would  certainly  be  displeased  if  Helen  was  not  suitably 
dressed." 

"Of  course,"  responded  the  impatient  father.  "But 
surely  two  hours  should  be  sufficient  for  the  most  elaborate 
toilet.  I'll  smoke  my  cigar  for  awhile,  and  then  I'll  be 
off."  So  saying,  Mr.  Leeson  walked  into  the  dining-room, 
making  sundry  ungracious  remarks,  until  he  closed  the 
folding  door  upon  his  ill  humour. 

"Ah!"  sighed  the  humble  wife.  "I  never  could  under- 
stand these  bursts  of  irritation,  so  galling  to  others,  so 
exhausting  to  one's  self.  Is  Laura  up  stairs,  sister?" 

*'  She  came  in  with  me,  and  I  think  I  heard  Alice  Ir'ving's 
voice;  her  laugh,  you  know,  is  not  to  be  mistaken." 

"Yes,  it  is  so  musical.  What  a  merry  creature  she  is! 
I  wish  she  could  impart  some  of  her  joyous  spirits  to  our 
poor  Laura,  who  is  more  sad  than  usual.  Is  she  ill?" 

"  No.  She  has,  you  know,  always  been  delicate.  I  am 
in  constant  dread  of  her  being  like  her  poor  mother.  I 


8  HELEN  LEESON: 

think,  however,  that  her  present  state  of  depression  can  be 
accounted  for.  Yesterday  was  the  anniversary  of  Arthur's 
death,  and  Laura  has  been  wretched:  even  little  Arty, 
generally  so  bright,  seemed  influenced  by  that  atmosphere 
of  gloom.  Oh !  sister,  how  bitterly  have  I  regretted  my 
darling's  marriage  with  Count  Marini,  excellent,  perfect  as 
the  poor  fellow  was!" 

"Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Leeson,  "but  who  could  have  fore- 
seen the  melancholy  accident  which  terminated  his  life? 
Laura  was  so  happy;  hers  seemed  so  bright  a  future! 
How  little  can  we  depend  upon  the  securities  of  this  sad 
world!" 

"Why  can  we  not  take  a  more  philosophical  view  of  its 
trials?"  said  Miss  Marsy.  "Why  allow  the  links  of  hu- 
manity to  be  so  strong,  so  binding?  Laura  mourns  for 
her  husband  to-day  as  she  did  two  years  ago;  and  still, 
hers  is  a  spirit  full  of  meek  humility — so  angelic,  so  truly 
religious !  Her  grief  distresses  me,  but  is  not  a  subject  of 
astonishment.  I  feel  that  were  death  to  tear  the  precious 
child  from  my  love,  /  never  would  cease  to  mourn  for 
her !  There  is  a  ring  at  the  bell !  Do  you  expect  any 
one,  sister?" 

"  No  one,  except  Herman  Smith,  who  probably  wishes 
to  see  Helen's  brilliant  toilet." 

Mrs.  Leeson  was  not  mistaken.  A  few  minutes  after, 
Jackson  (the  coloured  waiter)  opened  the  door,  and  ushered 
in  a  young  man,  who  made  his  entrance  as  though  the 
premises  were  most  familiar  to  him. 

"  Good  evening,  ladies ;  I  am  not  too  late,  I  hope.  Has 
Miss  Helen  gone  to  Mrs.  Grantly's  ?" 

"No,  not  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson.  "How  are  you, 
Herman  ?  and  where  have  you  been  these  few  days  past  ? 
I  expected  you  to  dinner,  on  Thursday." 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  9 

"  Why,  dear  madam,  Mr.  Leeson  must  have  told  you  that 
we  had  extra  business  to  attend  to  at  the  counting-house; 
and  for  the  last  two  days  I  have  been  up  in  Connecticut. 
Mother  and  Julia  are  in  fine  spirits,  and  I  brought  you 
some  of  the  productions  of  the  farm,  which  I  sent  up  this 
afternoon  by  Thompson." 

"Most  delightful  presents — particularly  at  Christmas- 
time!" said  Aunt  Seraph.  "But  how  is  it,  Herman,  that 
you  are  not  to  grace  Grantly  Hall  with  your  presence  this 
evening  ?" 

"  Too  old  for  parties,  dear  lady.  When  a  man  is  twenty- 
eight,  in  New  York,  he  is  cut  out  for  an  old  bachelor,  and 
consequently  ceases  to  be  noticed  by  the  belles.  That 
would  be  most  humiliating  to  the  unextinguished  embers  of 
my  vanity." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson,  "I  am  really  sorry  you  are 
not  going,  for  I  cannot  bear  the  idea  of  allowing  Helen  to 
drive  to  her  aunt's,  and  home  again,  alone.  This  winter, 
my  health  has  been  so  bad,  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  give 
up  going  out  with  her,  and  Mr.  Leeson  will  not  consent  to 
accompany  his  daughter ;  even  to-night  he  refused  to  go 
to  Amanda's.  I  know  she  will  be  mortally  offended.  She 
depended  upon  him  to  entertain  Lord  Devere,  who  is  tra- 
velling in  this  country  with  his  nephew,  Sir  Archibald 
Courtnay,  the  great  speck — the  object  of  universal  admira- 
tion among  the  New  York  belles." 

"Ah!"  said  Herman  Smith:  "Mrs.  Grantly  must  bo 
delighted.  A  real  lord — two  real  lords !  Stupendous ! 
How  many  nets  will  be  set,  to-night,  for  the  young  noble- 
man !  He  will  be  lucky  if  he  is  not  entrapped  before 
twelve  o'clock.  I  am  almost  sorry  I  did  not  make  up 
my  mind  to  go ;  I  should  have  enjoyed  watching  the 
manceuverings  of  the  Elvingtons,  the  Coverleys;  and  as 


10  HELEN  LEESON: 

for  Miss  Cora  Dalton,  she  will  require  no  auxiliary,  I  am 
sure." 

"  Silly  people  !"  said  Miss  Seraphina. 

At  that  moment,  Mr.  Leeson  reappeared  at  the  door  of 
the  dining-room. 

"  Not  down  yet  ?  Confound  those  girls.  I'll  be  bound 
they  are  playing  up  there.  Ah !  Herman,  is  that  you  ? 
What  news  ?  Steamer  in  yet  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  responded  the  young  man,  calmly,  and  appa- 
rently not  noticing  the  gruff  intonation  of  his  employer ; 
"  but  very  probably  she  may  be  up  to-morrow.  Robert  is 
coming  home  by  the  Pacific,  Mrs.  Leeson,  is  he  not?" 

"  I  hope  so,"  was  the  mother's  smiling  reply.  "  Dear 
boy !  How  delighted  I  shall  be  to  see  him  !  I  am  only 
afraid  he  will  be  discontented  here,  after  spending  six 
months  in  Paris." 

"  Why  so  ?"  said  Mr.  Leeson,  tormenting  the  fire,  as  he 
could  not  worry  any  one.  "  The  fellow  will  have  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf  when  he  gets  home,  and  work  hard.  He 
has  never  earned  a  farthing  for  himself,  and  is  not  worth 
his  salt." 

"You  are  severe,  my  dear.  Robert  is  young  and 
thoughtless,  perhaps  extravagant ;  but  a  nobler  heart  than 
his  never  beat  in  any  man's  breast." 

"No,  indeed!"  echoed  Aunt  Seraph. 

"  Well,  well,  that  is  all  very  fine ;  but  he  must  go  to 
work;  that's  positive.  Ah!  here  are  those  girls  at  last." 

Herman  rose  and  opened  the  door  to  admit  the  merry 
party,  which  was"  preceded  by  many  boisterous  exclama- 
tions. 

"  Oh  !  mamma !"  said  Anna,  "  you  never  saw  Helen  look 
BO  well  in  your  life !  Sophie  has  dressed  her  hair  so  ex- 
quisitely !" 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  11 

Before  Anna  could  finish  her  encomiums,  the  object  of 
tliem  made  her  appearance  in  the  parlour,  followed  by 
Laura  Marini,  Alice  Irving,  and  Sophie,  the  French  maid, 
bearing  her  young  mistress's  evening  cloak  of  white  satin, 
trimmed  with  ermine. 

Our  readers  will,  no  doubt,  be  anxious  to  take  a  glimpse 
of  our  heroine,  as  she  there  stands,  on  her  first  introduction 
to  them. 

Helen  Leeson  was  eighteen,  and  fair  as  the  loveliest  of 
Eve's  daughters.  Nothing  could  be  more  beautiful  than 
her  chiselled  features,  her  small  mouth  and  delicate  nose, 
her  large  black  eyes  and  dark  hair.  Though  naturally 
rather  pale,  her  complexion,  when  heightened  by  excite- 
ment, was  exquisitely  pink ;  and  still  that  lovely  counte- 
nance was  not  faultless.  At  times  there  was  a  haughty 
expression  in  Helen's  face,  which  robbed  it  of  much  feminine 
grace.  But  as  she  stood  that  evening,  attired  in  a  dress 
of  white  tulle,  embroidered  in  gold,  her  fair  brow  crowned 
with  a  wreath  of  golden  grapes,  she  was  surpassingly  lovely, 
and  an  exclamation  of  admiration  welcomed  her  entrance 
into  the  parlour.  Even  the  proud  father  seemed  perfectly 
satisfied.  He  looked  upon  Helen  as  the  brightest  jewel  of 
his  casket  of  worldly  treasures.  All  his  dreams  of  ambi- 
tion rested  upon  the  fate  of  his  favourite,  his  beautiful 
child.  She  was  to  marry  the  wealthiest  of  the  land ;  she 
was  to  take  the  lead  in  society.  In  short,  she  was  the  ex- 
quisite personification  of  his  pride ;  for  in  that  respect 
Helen's  nature  resembled  her  father's. 

"Good  evening,  Mrs.  Leeson.  Aunt  Seraph,  how  are 
you?  Ah!  Mr.  Leeson,  you  still  here?  the  club  deprived 
of  your  presence?"  said  Alice  Irving;  and  as  she  curtsied 
low  to  Herman  Smith,  she  added — "  What  do  you  think  of 
our  belle  of  the  season  ?" 

2 


12  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Perfectly  bewitching." 

"I  never  saw  you  so  becomingly  dressed,  Elly,"  said 
Miss  Marsy.  "  Shall  we  call  you  Minerva  ?  I  should  say, 
Ceres,  if  those  grapes  were  wheat." 

"  Neither  title  suits  me,  aunt.  '  I  have  no  such  preten- 
sion, I  assure  you ;  and  I  am  entirely  indebted  to  these 
ladies  for  my  elegance.  Without  their  assistance,  I  never 
could  have  arranged  all  these  gold  ornaments.  Laura  is  a 
capital  dressing-maid." 

The  young  countess  had  taken  an  arm-chair  near  her 
aunt,  and  seemed  absorbed  in  thoughts  far  distant  from 
balls  and  toilets. 

"  Why  are  you  not  dressed  for  the  party,  Miss  Alice  ?" 
asked  Herman  Smith. 

"  For  the  very  best  of  all  reasons,  my  dear  sir.  I  am 
not  expected ;  that  is,  not  invited.  Don't  you  know  Mrs. 
Grantly  never  extends  her  circle  beyond  the  elite  of  New 
York  fashion?  I  certainly  can  lay  no  claim  to  so  ele- 
vated a  station.  Do  you  think  that  little  Alice  Irving 
could  pretend  to  breathe  the  same  atmosphere  as  Lord 
Devere  and  Sir  Archibald  Courtnay?  No,  no;  impos- 
sible !  Now,  Mr.  Leeson,  why  do  you  frown  ?  You 
know  I  don't  mind  your  frowns,"  added  Miss  Irving, 
laughing. 

This  was  true.  Alice  and  Herman  were  the  only  per- 
sons in  that  intimate  circle  upon  whom  those  frowns  pro- 
duced no  effect.  Helen  did  not  fear  her  father,  but  she 
was  generally  annoyed  by  any  thing  which  seemed  to 
trouble  him. 

"Now  I  am  going,"  said  Mr.  Leeson.  "Good-night, 
Miss  Alice ;  you  and  I  will  quarrel,  one  of  these  days." 

"  I  think  not.  I  am  thy  best  friend,  Neighbour  Leeson, 
as  Aunt  Martha  always  says.  Only  think  of  my  belonging 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  13 

to  a  Quaker  family,  Mr.  Herman,  and  so  worldly  in  my 
tastes  !"  added  the  cheerful  girl. 

"  Helen,  mind  you  do  not  stay  too  late,  to-night,"  said 
Mrs.  Leeson.  "  Tell  Mathew  to  be  very  careful  with  his 
horses ;  and  don't  forget  to  apologize  for  your  father's  ab- 
sence. I  am  afraid  we  shall  receive  a  lecture  on  the  subject. 
There  !  I  hear  the  carriage.  Put  your  cloak  on,  darling ; 
et  Sophie  wrap  you  up  well.  It  is  bitter  cold,  to-night." 

"  Shall  I  take  you  and  Laura  home,  Aunt  Seraph  ?" 
inquired  Helen. 

"  Well,  yes,  dear  child,"  answered  Miss  Marsy,  as  she 
looked  at  Laura,  who  seemed  fatigued. 

"Let  me  see  you  in  next  door,  Miss  Alice,"  said 
Herman. 

"  Thank  you ;  yes,  if  you  have  no  other  engagement. 
Good-night,  Mrs.  Leeson.  Helen,  remember,  you  are 
limited  to  three  conquests,  this  evening.  Sir  Archibald 
counts  for  two." 

"Do  you  not  feel  well,  darling?"  asked  Mrs.  Leeson,  as 
she  kissed  Laura. 

"Yes;  well  physically,  but  sick  at  heart,  aunt."  Whis- 
pered the  young  countess,  "I  shall  be  better  to-morrow, 
and  Arty  is  coming  to  show  you  his  new  coat.  Come, 
Aunt  Seraph,  Helen  is  quite  ready.  Good-night,  Herman ; 
don't  run  away  with  Alice." 

"No  danger,"  said  Miss  Irving,  as  she  tripped  down  the 
steps  ;  "  it  is  too  cold." 

All  had  retired  except  Mrs.  Leeson  and  Anna,  who,  as 
ehe  re-entered  the  parlour,  sat  down  to  the  piano  and  began 
to  sing  a  soft,  sweet  melody — one  of  Schubert's.  The 
mother  listened  attentively  to  the  sounds  of  the  dear 
afflicted  one,  whose  whole  soul  seemed  wrapt  in  the  music. 
When  it  was  over,  Anna  turned  toward  Mrs.  Leeson — she 


14  HELEN   LEESON: 

was  in  tears.  The  young  girl  ran  to  her,  and  throwing  her 
arms  around  her  neck,  she  said — "Dearest,  why,  why  do 
you  weep  ?  Was  it  my  singing  that  brought  those  tears  ? 
Mother,  you  always  grieve  about  me ;  and  you  are  wrong, 
for  I  am  happy — very  happy.  Mine  are  the  joys  unknown 
to  those  who  possess  worldly  advantages.  I  would  not  ex- 
change my  lot  for  the  most  brilliant — I  would  not,  indeed." 

"  If  so,  I  am  satisfied,  my  darling,"  said  the  fond  mother, 
as  she  folded  the  young  girl  to  her  bosom. 

How  pure  the  sacred  link  of  love  between  the  parent  and 
the  child ! 

"  Tell  Sophie  to  wait  for  Helen,  Anna,"  said  Mrs.  Lee- 
son,  as  they  parted  for  the  night. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         15 


CHAPTER  II. 

IT  is  scarcely  needful  to  describe  the  appearance  of  our 
aristocratic  mansions,  when  thrown  open  for  the  reception 
of  fashion.  The  unreasonable  amount  of  magnificence, 
the  ridiculous  expenditure  considered  essential  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  guests,  so  much  food  for  pride  and 
cause  for  subsequent  regret, — all  this,  to  the  rational  mem- 
bers of  the  community,  has  long  since  been  considered  a 
calamity  which  imperceptibly  brings  on  more  than  one  great 
crisis,  shaking  the  very  foundations  of  New  York  society. 
Like  the  billows  of  the  ocean,  which  raise  its  bubbling  foam 
upon  the  swelling  wave  and  then  bury  it  in  the  depths  of 
the  sea,  fortune,  that  capricious  agent  ever  ready  to  grasp 
at  the  strongest  passions  of  men,  will  bear  the  prosperous 
family  to  the  pinnacle  of  wealth  and  social  influence,  and 
one  year  will  suffice  to  precipitate  it  into  ruin  and  neglect. 
Thus  it  has  been  for  many  years,  and  thus,  alas !  will  the 
unwise  members  of  our  society  continue  to  risk  the  future 
prospects,  nay,  existence,  of  their  families  upon  the  frail 
bark  of  human  pride,  and  that  still  more  degrading  weak- 
ness, human  vanity. 

This  seems  a  strange  preliminary  to  the  description  of  a 
gorgeous  festival,  the  most  magnificent  of  the  season  ;  and 
perhaps,  in  this  circumstance,  our  severe  criticism  may  ap- 
pear gratuitous;  for  the  host,  Horace  Grantly,  Esq.,  was  one 
of  the  wealthiest  of  the  upper  ten,  and  having  no  children, 
was  certainly  justifiable,  some  would  add,  praiseworthy,  in 
expending  so  much  money  and  care  for  the  gratification 

2* 


16  HELEN  LEESON: 

of  his  friends.  Sadly  disappointed  would  some  of  these 
have  been,  however,  if  they  had  known  how  very  reluctant 
Horace  Grantly  was  to  submit  to  the  immense  exertion  thua 
entailed  upon  him.  He  was  one  of  a  quiet,  retiring  nature. 
Forty  years  of  his  life  had  been  spent  in  a  counting-house, 
all  his  thoughts  absorbed  by  that  restless  desire  of  wealth 
which  has  exhausted  so  much  mental  power  at  the  expense 
of  health,  happiness,  and  alas ! — that  more  vital  object — sal- 
vation !  Mr.  Grantly,  by  persevering  energy,  had  raised  the 
golden  pedestal  upon  which  he  now  stood,  almost  an  un- 
conscious spectator  of  the  splendour  which  surrounded  him  ; 
and  many  were  the  moments  when  he  would  gladly  have 
exchanged  the  unsatisfactory  enjoyment  of  his  thousands 
for  his  quiet  and  modest  home  of  former  days. 

Not  so  with  Mrs.  Amanda  Grantly,  his  ambitious  wife. 
She  was  the  sister  of  Robert  Leeson,  his  own  flesh  and  blood; 
and,  moreover,  as  much  like  him  in  nature  and  character,  a8 
two  of  the  Creator's  works  could  be.  Mrs.  Grantly  had 
been,  and  would  still  fain  be,  a  handsome  woman ;  and 
often,  during  the  period  of  her  constrained  obscurity,  she 
bitterly  mourned  at  the  thought  of  her  charms  being  des- 
tined to  "bloom  unseen." 

It  was  a  glorious  day  for  Helen's  aunt,  that  upon  which 
she  left  her  simple,  unpretending  residence  in  White  Street, 
for  the  splendid  establishment  she  reigned  over  at  the  time 
our  story  begins.  She  had  then  occupied  it  for  five  years, 
during  which  she  gradually  assumed  a  position  in  society 
which  was  well  calculated  to  gratify  the  pride  of  her  whole 
race.  We  have  wronged  this  lady,  however,  by  comparing 
her  to  her  brother  in  every  respect.  She  had  conquered,  at 
least  with  the  world,  that  irritation  of  temper  which  had 
been  such  a  thorn  in  poor  Mrs.  Leeson's  heart  for  twenty 
years ;  and,  in  fact,  was  universally  considered  a  most  amiable 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  17 

and  refined  lady.  Horace  Grantly  was  the  only  one  not 
entirely  convinced  of  the  fact,  although  he  frequently  en- 
deavoured to  believe  that  his  wife  really  was  what  others 
supposed  her  to  be. 

Mrs.  Grantly's  heart,  which  had  never  expanded  to  the 
cry  of  maternal  love,  was  supremely  inaccessible  to  the 
weaknesses  of  her  sex.  She  was  above  those  trifling  emo- 
tions which  ever  re-echo  the  sufferings  of  a  fellow-being. 
Her  charities  were  considerable,  no  doubt ;  but  where  was 
the  sympathizing  look  of  pity  which  to  the  aching  soul  is 
BO  precious?  Where  was  the  word  of  comfort  which  to  the 
sufferer  is  so  musical  ?  These  the  proud  woman  could  not 
understand.  Her  life  was  one  continual  whirl  of  excite- 
ment and  pleasure ;  her  thoughts,  her  time,  her  very  exist- 
ence, were  laid  at  the  shrine  of  pride  and  fashion.  And 
was  she  happy?  Many  of  our  readers  can  answer  that 
question.  We  scarcely  believe,  however,  that  she  could 
have  been  as  truly  satisfied  with  her  lot  as  poor  little  Anna 
Leeson. 

Mrs.  Grantly,  however,  had  one  great  interest  in  life. 
This  was,  to  marry  her  nieces,  Helen  Leeson  and  Emma 
Grantly,  according  to  her  ambitious  views;  and  it  was 
principally  to  promote  this  desired  result  that  she  had 
issued  invitations  to  her  large  circle  for  a  f£te  given  to 
Lord  Devere  and  Sir  Archibald  Courtnay,  his  nephew, 
who,  she  flattered  herself,  could  not  possibly  resist  the 
.nagnificence  of  her  reception,  and  the  many  charms  of  her 
beautiful  niece.  To  tell  the  truth,  Mrs.  Grantly  founded 
all  her  hopes  upon  Helen's  powers  of  fascination ;  for 
Emma's  were  by  no  means  equal  to  the  task. 

Miss  Grantly,  the  only  child  of  Mr.  Henry  Grantly,  was 
a  fine,  intellectual  girl,  whose  education  had  been  directed 
by  the  ever-watchful  eye  of  a  tender  and  accomplished 


18  HELEN  LEESON: 

mother.  She  was  not  pretty,  but  her  manners  were  so 
elegant,  her  conversation  so  interesting,  that  she  was  a 
general  favourite  among  her  many  friends,  and  always 
noticed  by  the  sensible  habitues  of  her  aunt's  soirees.  Mrs. 
Grantly  was  too  loving  a  mother  to  be  ambitious  of  mere 
worldly  advantages  for  her  daughter ;  and  in  fact,  all  her 
attempts  had  been  to  screen  Emma  from  the  foolish  adula- 
tion which  her  wealth  and  position  in  society  exposed 
her  to. 

Many  were  the  efforts  which  Mrs.  Amanda  made  upon 
that  grand  occasion  to  render  her  ball  the  fete  of  the  sea- 
son, and  to  cast  a  cloud  of  gold-dust  in  the  eyes  of  the 
young  English  nobleman.  The  idea  of  consulting  either 
of  her  sisters-in-law  upon  this  momentous  question,  never 
occurred  to  this  queen  of  fashion ;  but  Helen  spent  two 
mornings  with  her  aunt,  and  suggested  many  little  original 
arrangements,  which  proved  very  effective. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  our  heroine,  although  carried 
away  by  the  influence  of  her  father  and  aunt,  was  entirely 
one  of  them  in  feelings  and  character.  We  have  acknow- 
ledged with  regret  that  she  possessed  more  than  a  rational 
share  of  ungodly  pride ;  but  hers  was  a  noble  and  bright 
nature,  full  of  charity  and  love,  when  that  sensitive  and 
morbid  trait  of  her  moral  self  was  not  in  play.  She  had 
inherited  her  father's  energy  and  firmness,  but  these  were 
tempered  by  the  benignant  and  soothing  influence  of  her 
mother  and  Aunt  Seraph.  There  is  an  old  French  saying 
— "  Qui  se  ressemble  s'assemble  ;"  less  elegantly  translated 
into  English  by  our  proverb — "  Birds  of  a  feather  flock  to- 
gether," and  an  excellent  test  of  character.  In  Helen's 
case  it  was  quite  perceptible.  All  the  friends  of  her  child- 
hood and  youth,  were  such  as  one  would  meet  with  infinite 
satisfaction  through  life,  and  their  affection  and  examples 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  19 

had  raised  a  protecting  screen  around  the  young  girl's 
heart,  keeping  off  the  evil  which  might  have  resulted  from 
her  aunt's  partiality,  and  her  constant  intercourse  with  the 
worldly  set  which  surrounded  her. 

It  was  therefore  with  a  beating  heart,  hut  very  little 
vanity,  that  Helen  Leeson  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  beauti- 
ful self,  as  she  entered  Mrs.  Grantly's  drawing-room  that 
evening.  A  few  of  the  favoured  intimates  had  been  re- 
quested to  come  early,  that  they  might  pass  an  opinion 
upon  the  arrangement  of  the  reception-rooms,  four  of  which 
were  gorgeously  furnished  and  splendidly  illuminated.  A 
fifth  one,  adjoining  the  conservatory,  had  been  selected  as 
a  boudoir,  where  a  most  becoming  twilight,  (produced  by 
pink  transparencies,)  and  the  perfume  of  the  flowers,  ren- 
dered it  a  most  enchanting  place  of  repose  after  the  eye 
had  been  satiated  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  ball-rooms.  Upon 
this^  little  retreat  Mrs.  Grantly  founded  her  most  sanguine 
hopes.  Helen  must  contrive,  or  rather  she  must, — far  she 
knew  her  niece  too  well  to  dream  of  suggesting,a  manoeuvre 
which  might  be  considered,  to  say  the  least,  a  breach  of 
feminine  delicacy, — she  must  therefore  manage  to  bring 
Sir  Archibald  and  his  fair  partner,  Miss  Leeson,  into  this 
little  boudoir,  and  then  trust  to  Cupid,  upon  whom  she  had 
seldom  called  on  her  own  account,  and  who  could  not  dis- 
dain so  glorious  a  prize.  This  the  fine  lady  thought  over 
as  she  was  receiving  her  guests,  who  poured  out  their  volleys 
of  admiration,  and  dispersed  through  the  splendid  apart- 
ments, many  with  smiling  countenances  and  heavy  hearts, 
many  with  ambitious  desires,  and  many,  fortunately  for  our 
poor  humanity,  with  the  only  wish  of  taking  an  immediate 
start  by  the  exhilarating  music  of  twenty  Kammerers. 

"Ah!  Emma,  is  that  you?"  said  Helen,  as  she  Dassed 
through  the  now  increasing  crowd  to  take  her  stand  m  the 


20  HELEN  LEESON: 

dancing-room.  "  How  sweetly  you  look !  Those  blue-bella 
are  so  becoming!  Is  your  mother  here?" 

"Yes;  and  when  you  have  a  spare  moment,  Elly,  stop 
to  say  a  few  words  to  her,"  was  the  reply. 

"Miss  Grantly  is  a  lovely  girl,"  remarked  Helen's 
partner, 

"  She  is  a  gem ! — so  talented,  so  intelligent,  and  unas- 
suming! I  wish  I  were  like  her!  Have  you  seen  Mrs. 
Seyton,  to-night,  Mr.  Marvell?" 

"Yes;  she  came  in  as  we  were  leaving  the  reception 
room,  so  exquisitely  dressed  in  pink  tulle!  Our  ladiea 
have  acquired  a  true  Parisian  taste,  of  late." 

The  dancing  interrupted  the  conversation,  and  a  bevy  of 
fair  ladies,  led  by  the  elite  of  the  beaux,  whirled  around 
the  room,  leaving  a  very  small  space  for  those  who  were 
doomed  to  look  on  and  dream  of  by-gone  triumphs.  An 
occasional  inclination  of  the  head,  or  a  hurried  "good- 
evening,"  were  the  only  privileges  allowed  to  the  ex-vo- 
taries of  Terpsichore. 

"Good-evening,  my  lord!  Sir  Archibald,  I  am  most 
happy  to  see  you!"  was  the  gracious  welcome  which  Mrs. 
Grantly  offered  her  illustrious  guests;  after  which  she  pro- 
ceeded to  introduce  them  to  the  few  select  among  her  inti- 
mates: "Mrs.  Coverley,  Lord  Devere;  Miss  Olivia  Cover- 
ley,  Sir  Archibald ;  Miss  Elvington ;  Miss  Cora  Dalton, 
one  of  our  greatest  belles!  But  where  is  Helen?  Sir 
Archibald,  if  you  will  lend  me  your  arm,  I  will  be  your 
guide  through  this  labyrinth  of  beauty !  Ah  !  Helen,  my 
dear,  let  me  introduce  Sir  Archibald  to  you — my  niece, 
Miss  Leeson.  I  told  this  lady  that,  being  a  stranger,  you 
deserved  particular  regard,  and  that  you  were  entitled  to 
the  third  polka,  which  is  just  beginning!" 

Sir  Archibald,  somewhat  stunned  by  this  emphatic  wel- 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.          21 

come,  and  being  rather  awkward  and  timid,  was  glad  to 
escape  from  Mrs.  Grantly's  grasp ;  and  with  a  trifling  re- 
mark upon  the  charms  of  the  ladies,  and  his  satisfaction  at 
making  Miss  Leeson's  acquaintance,  to  which  she  responded 
in  the  same  strain,  he  carried  off  the  beautiful  girl,  and  for 
a  few  minutes  both  were  lost  in  the  fascination  of  the  music 
and  dancing. 

Strange  custom,  which  propriety  sanctions,  however — 
that  of  throwing  one's  self  in  a  man's  arms  after  an 
acquaintance  of  five  minutes ! 

"Ah!  Mar  veil,  is  that  you?"  exclaimed  a  gentleman  of 
remarkably  genteel  appearance,  as  he  actually  stumbled 
upon  Harry  Marvell,  the  beau  authority  in  Mrs.  Grantly's 
circle.  "  Do  come  to  my  assistance !  I  am  a  perfect 
stranger  here,  and  actually  have  not  yet  been  introduced 
to  the  host.  Our  European  notions  of  propriety  cannot 
tolerate  one's  spending  a  whole  evening  in  a  man's  house, 
partaking  of  his  hospitality  and  good  cheer,  without  this 
slight  testimony  of  regard  !" 

"Well,  my  dear  fellow,  you  can  be  easily  gratified,  and 
no  doubt  will  be  repaid  for  the  exertion !  Mr.  Grantly, 
allow  me  to  introduce  my  friend  Mr.  Eric  Mac  Tavish  to 
you,"  added  the  gentleman  of  fashion. 

"Most  happy,  sir,  to  make  your  acquaintance,"  said  the 
host.  "  I  am  just  about  gathering  up  a  whist  party,  which, 
of  course,  I  cannot  expect  you  to  join.  Pray,  Marvell, 
introduce  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  to  some  of  the  ladies!"  So 
saying,  Mr.  Grantly  hurried  off,  as  though  some  imperative 
duty  was  to  be  accomplished. 

"Now,  you  are  entirely  at  liberty  to  promenade  about 
these  saloons,  play  the  agreeable,  and  flirt  to  your  heart's 
content !  Make  yourself  perfectly  at  home,"  said  Marvell. 

"Well,  can't  you  introduce  me  to  some  sensible  woman? 


22  HELEN  LEESON: 

I  don't  dance,  and,  by  George !  it  is  poor  fun  to  be  looking 
on  all  the  time !" 

"Of  course!"  responded  Harry.  "See!  over  there  on 
that  divan  is  an  exquisite  young  widow,  Mrs.  Seyton. 
Shall  she  be  the  object  of  your  attentions?  or  will  you 
bestow  them  on  that  queen  of  hearts  there,  standing  near 
the  mantel-piece — Miss  Julia  Elvington?" 

"  You  may  find  me  fastidious,  but  neither  of  these  bright 
planets  will  have  me  as  a  satellite!"  said  Mac  Tavish, 
laughing. 

"To  whom,  then,  will  you  be  introduced?  Upon  my 
word,  you  foreigners  are  high  fellows !  If  Mrs.  Seyton  or 
Miss  Elvington  could  dream  of  your  indifference,  you  would 
stand  a  poor  chance  of  seeing  much  of  New  York  gayety 
this  season  !"  added  Harry  Marvell. 

Just  then,  Mrs.  Seyton,  who  had  watched  the  contest, 
came  toward  them,  leaning  on  Lord  Devere's  arm.  Mac 
Tavish  made  his  escape,  determined  to  trust  to  chance  for 
his  amusement  that  evening. 

The  rooms  were  then  so  crowded  that  it  was  difficult  to 
circulate.  Mrs.  Grantly  was  in  all  her  glory.  Helen  had 
evidently  captivated  Sir  Archibald.  He  had  scarcely  left 
her.  "Now,"  thought  the  lady,  "is  the  proper  time." 
Addressing  a  gracious  remark  to  one  guest,  finding  a 
Beat  for  another,  receiving  congratulations  from  all,  Mrs. 
Amanda  passed  through  the  brilliant  crowd  in  search  of 
Helen. 

"  Here  you  are,  dear  !  Have  you  shown  Sir  Archibald 
the  boudoir  ?  I  am  sure  it  will  strike  his  fancy.  Ah !  Mr. 
Morris,  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  give  me  your  arm,  that 
I  may  reach  the  conservatory?"  Helen  and  her  partner 
followed,  both  unconscious  of  the  snare. 

"This  is  indeed  beautiful!"  said  the  young  baronet,  as 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  23 

lift  entered  the  little  retreat.  "  One  might  spend  an  hour, 
here,  very  agreeably!" 

"You  must  be  tired,"  added  Mrs.  Grantly;  "let  us  take 
a  seat  on  these  Oriental  cushions — quite  a  new  style  of  fur- 
niture !  Helen,  your  dress  in  this  light  makes  you  look 
very  much  like  an  odalisque!" 

"  Yes,"  said  Sir  Archibald,  "  I  was  complimenting  Miss 
Leeson  upon  the  peculiarly  elegant  style  of  her  coiffure. 
Really,  the,  American  ladies  have  excellent  taste !" 

"All  our  fashions  come  from  Paris,"  said  the  hostess. 
"By-the-by,  Mr.  Morris,  you  are  an  amateur  of  plants; 
I  would  like  to  show  you  a  camelia  of  great  beauty."  So 
saying,  Mrs.  Grantly  rose  and  entered  the  conservatory, 
followed  by  her  young  escort,  who  would  have  given  all  the 
camelias  in  the  world  to  return  to  the  dancing-room. 

The  manoeuvring  lady  had  badly  managed  her  cards. 
She  had  probably  forgotten  that  the  prize  she  was  so  eager 
to  seize  was  an  Englishman  of  twenty-three,  and  far  from 
being  skilled  in  the  art  of  flirtation,  which  is  innate  with 
our  young  gentlemen. 

Helen  felt  that  she  was  making  a  conquest,  and  the  very 
security  rendered  her  less  quick  than  usual  to  take  advan- 
tage of  the  favourable  opportunity.  The  consequence  was, 
that  after  a  few  minutes  of  silence,  during  which  the  young 
nobleman  sighed  and  looked  up  at  the  embroidered  curtains, 
Helen  rose  and  was  preparing  to  return  to  the  drawing- 
room,  when  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Emma  Grantly  and 
Mac  Tavish,  whom  luck  had  favoured  at  last. 

"  I  have  promised  this  gentleman  to  shew  him  all  the 
beauties  of  a  New  York  palace !"  said  Emma,  smiling,  as 
she  came  in. 

"Ah!  speak  not  of  the  splendour  of  the  ball-room,  and 
its  glittering  display  of  gold  and  diamonds  j  this  far  sur- 

3 


24  HELEN  LEESON: 

passes  them  in  my  estimation  !     Sir  Archibald,  good  even 
ing." 

"  Let  me  introduce  you  to  Miss  Leeson,  my  aunt's  niece, 
and  still  not  my  cousin,  but  my  best  friend  !"  added  Emm;i. 
"  Helen,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish.  This  gentleman  has  been  tell- 
ing me  all  about  his  travels  in  Europe  and  Asia.  I  long 
to  visit  all  those  sacred  spots,  fallowed  by  the  ruins  of 
antique  splendour !  What  a  pleasant  time  we  would  have, 
Helen,  if  we  could  go  there  together,  and  take  Laura  arid 
Alice  Irving !" 

"Delightful!"  said  Helen;  and  once  more  she  reclined 
on  the  Oriental  cushions,  quite  interested  in  a  conversation 
in  which  her  youthful  admirer  took  very  little  part ;  for  all 
his  experience  of  travels  had  been  acquired  during  his  voy- 
age across  the  Atlantic,  and  having  scarcely  left  his  state- 
room, the  impression  upon  his  mind  was  slightly  favourable. 
However,  he  was  an  attentive  auditor  to  the  glowing  descrip- 
tions given  by  the  eloquent  Scotchman,  and  eagerly  re 
sponded  to  by  the  fair  listeners. 

Great  was  the  disappointment  of  the  hostess,  when  she 
re-entered  the  boudoir,  shortly  afterward,  and  found  it  thus 
occupied.  But  Mrs.  Granrly  was  not  one  to  allow  any 
annoyance  to  betray  itself  upon  her  countenance.  She 
therefore  said,  in  the  most  smiling  manner — "  Supper  has 
been  announced,  ladies  ;  show  these  gentlemen  that  pretty 
little  path  through  the  conservatory  to  the  dining-room." 

Mac  Tavish,  having  presented  his  devoirs  to  the  host  and 
hostess,  felt  perfectly  justifiable  in  appreciating  the  many 
delicacies  which  were  crowded  upon  that  brilliant  supper- 
table.  Here,  again,  several  salutary  remarks  might  be  made 
about  useless  extravagance,  waste,  &c. ;  but  one  feels  little 
inclined  to  be  satirical  at  supper-time.  So  thought  the 
many  chatty  and  winking  couples  who  walked  in  from  the 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.          25 

dancing-room,  almost  exhausted  by  the  violent  exercise 
•which  the  present  style  of  dancing  requires,  but  quite 
ready,  when  restored  by  a  slice  of  pot6  or  a  plate  of  oysters, 
to  start  again  for  the  German  cotillion.  Excess — excess — 
in  every  thing!  There  lies  the  error,  and  there  lies  the 
great  destroyer  of  American  beauty ! 

Sir  Archibald  did  not  dance  the  German  cotillion,  but 
expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  Miss  Leeson  take  a  part  in 
it.  Helen  therefore  accepted  Sydney  Morris  as  a  partner — 
a  favour  he  was  certainly  entitled  to,  considering  his  de- 
votion in  the  boudoir  manoeuvre. 

"  Do  you  go  to  the  Elvington's,  to-morrow,  Miss  Helen?" 
asked  her  youthful  beau. 

"  Certainly ! — and  on  Thursday  to  Mrs.  Coverly's.  Next 
Monday  we  are  to  have  a  dinner-party,  given  to  Sir  Archi- 
bald by  Cora  Dalton.  You  know  her  uncle  doats  upon  her, 
and  being  very  fond  of  dissipation,  she  makes  the  poor  old 
gentleman  keep  pretty  late  hours.  How  ridiculous !  Why 
does  she  not  go  out  with  a  friend,  or  alone,  where  she  is 
intimate?  I  should  be  above  such  dependence,"  said 
Helen. 

"  Of  course  !"  added  Mr.  Morris.  "  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  old  Dalton  just  now,  asleep  on  the  cushions  of  the 
boudoir." 

Alas  for  Mrs.  Grantly's  dreams ! 

All  this  time  the  cotillion  was  going  on,  the  ladies  worn 
out,  exhausted,  and  looking  the  , worse  for  their  violent 
exertions.  Dame  Vanity  surely  does  not  keep  such  late 
hours,  or  she  would  not  allow  her  votaries  to  make  such  an 
active  display  of  their  wearied  charms.  No  girl,  however 
pretty  and  exquisitely  dressed,  ever  looks  well  at  three 
o'clock.  Nature  has  said — "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and 
uo  farther;"  and  as  for  the  mammas,  they  are  the  picture 


26  HELEN  LEESON: 

of  fatigue  and  exhaustion,  trying  their  best  to  keep  their 
eyes  open,  saying  a  word  here  and  there,  for  fear  they  might 
become  a  terrible  counterpart  to  the  poor  old  gentleman 
who  sleeps  unnoticed  and  forgotten  on  the  Oriental  cushions. 
The  minute  needle  was  fast  moving  from  half-past  two  to 
three,  when  Helen  looked  at  the  clock,  and  remembering 
her  promise,  "not  to  stay  too  late,"  she  said — 

"  Mr.  Morris,  I  would  like  to  take  French  leave.  Can 
you  not  order  the  carriage  around  for  me,  while  I  go  up  for 
my  cloak  ?" 

Sydney  pleaded  for  a  few  minutes  longer,  but  in  vain ; 
and  as  Helen  escaped  through  the  conservatory,  she  heard 
her  aunt's  voice  tuned  to  its  sweetest  accents — 

"Yes,  my  lord,  I  am  truly  sorry  that  a  serious  indispo- 
sition has  deprived  my  brother,  Mr.  Leeson,  of  meeting 
you  here  this  evening.  I  trust  he  will  be  well  enough  to 
join  us  on  Monday  next.  You  know  I  expect  you  and  Sir 
Archibald  to  dinner  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy,  madam,  to  avail  myself  of  your 
kind  invitation,"  responded  his  lordship. 

Helen  heard  no  more;  but  what  a  joyful  sensation  filled 
her  heart  as  she  repeated  to  herself,  "  Lady  Helen  Court- 
ney's carriage!" 

Vanity !  Pride !  Ambition !  wretched  seducers  of  our 
better  judgment ;  how  powerful  ye  are  ! 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  SHALL  I  not  take  you  home,  Miss  Helen  ?"  said  Syd- 
ney Morris,  as  he  escorted  her  to  the  carriage. 

"  Oh  !  no  ;  ridiculous  !  Why  Matthew  has  been  driving 
me  since  I  was  born ;  and  although  once  or  twice,  I  have 
known  him  to  be  fond  of  le  bon  vin,  I  would  trust  myself 
with  him  to  the  world's  end."  So  saying,  Helen  shook 
hands  with  her  ex-partner,  and  stepped  into  the  carriage, 
which  drove  off  immediately. 

Mrs.  Grantly's  mansion  was  situated  in  the  Fifth  Ave- 
nue, a  short  distance  from  the  Reservoir ;  and  Helen  knew 
that  full  twenty  minutes  of  meditation  would  be  hers  be- 
fore she  reached  home.  Enchanted  by  the  exhilarating 
success  of  the  evening,  her  mind  filled  with  glowing  dreams 
of  ambition — we  cannot  say  love — she  closed  her  eyes 
and  gave  herself  up  entirely  to  the  delightful  visions  which 
flitted  before  her  excited  fancy.  How  long  these  lasted, 
Helen  could  not  tell,  as  she  had  fallen  into  a  sound  sleep 
when  the  carriage  stopped. 

Thinking  she  had  reached  her  home,  she  prepared  to 
step  out  of  the  carriage,  when  suddenly  the  door  was 
opened,  and  a  man  sprang  into  it,  calling  out  to  the  driver, 
"Roger,  go  on  !"  Words  cannot  express  the  agony  of  the 
terrified  girl  at  finding  herself  thus  emirely  at  the  mercy 
of  this  ruffian,  for  no  other  could  she  suppose  him  to  be. 
Her  first  impulse  was  to  open  the  wind  <w  and  scream  for 
help.  The  former,  however,  she  could  not  effect,  for  the 
stranger  laid  his  hand  gently  but  powerfully  upon  her  arm, 

and  said  in  a  mild  voice — 

8* 


28  HELEN  LEESON: 

"Be  not  alarmed,  Miss  Leeson.  The  whole  of  this 
extraordinary  proceeding  will  be  explained  to  you  be- 
fore long ;  and  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  that  you  will 
be  restored  to  your  family  by  the  dawn  of  this  day." 

"Honour!"  said  Helen,  with  an  accent  that  was  not  to 
be  mistaken. 

"I  understand  you,"  he  said.  "I  have  no  right  to 
expect  that  you  should  believe  my  words;  and  still,"  lie 
added,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  am  but  the  agent  in  this  sad 
accident." 

"But  where  am  I?"  she  asked,  somewhat  reassured  by 
the  manner  of  her  mysterious  companion. 

"  Jhat  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell ;  question  me  not  far- 
ther ;  but  be  assured  that  whatever  part  I  may  take  in  the 
occurrences  of  this  night,  it  has  been  imposed  upon  me  by 
an  authority  which  I  have  no  power  to  resist,"  he  added, 
evidently  much  aifected. 

All  this  was  not  calculated  to  diminish  Helen's  alarm. 
It  was  evident  that  something  terrific  was  in  store  for  her ; 
and  under  the  increasing  fear  and  excitement  which  she 
could  no  longer  control,  she  threw  herself  on  her  knees 
before  the  person  whose  features  she  could  scarcely  dis- 
tinguish. 

"  Oh  !  for  Heaven's  sake,  for  your  mother's,  your  sister's 
Bake,  sir,  let  not  this  iniquitous  deed  take  place ;  restore 
me  to  my  family.  Oh !  take  me  home,  for  God's  sake ! 
Have  you  no  feeling  ?  Are  you  so  insensible  to  a  woman's 
cry  for  mercy?  Oh  !"  she  said,  at  last  exasperated,  "you 
are  not  an  American  ;  you  could  not  resist  my  tears — my 
despair  !" 

Exhausted,  she  fell  back,  fainting.  Her  companion 
raised  her  gently,  opened  the  carriage  window,  bathed  her 
temples  with  cologne-water  ;  and  aa  she  gradually  revived, 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  29 

he  said  in  that  soft,  sweet  voice,  entirely  unknown  to  her, 
but  jnost  soothing — 

"  Miss  Leeson ! — Helen  ! — do  be  calm  !  Have  I  not 
sworn  to  you  that  this  very  night  you  should  return  to  your 
father's  house,  uninjured  ?  and  by  all  that  is  sacred,  I  swear 
to  you  now  that  you  shall  never  hear  from  any  of  the 
actors  of  this  mysterious  deed.  Be  not  alarmed ;  I  know 
your  brother  Robert  well ;  he  calls  me  friend.  To  him  1 
shall  be  answerable,  if  you  should  wish  it,  for  my  strange 
conduct  to-night." 

Somewhat  comforted  by  these  words,  Helen  resigned 
herself  to  her  fate;  and,  covering  her  face  with  her  hand- 
kerchief, she  remained  perfectly  silent  until  the  carriage 
stopped.  It  was  so  dark  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to 
see  any  thing.  The  stranger  alighted  and  opened  a  gate, 
after  which  he  returned  to  the  carriage. 

"  This  is  my  father's  house,  Miss  Leeson.  Will  you 
allow  me  to  lead  you  up  these  steps,  it  is  so  dafk  ?" 

"Me! — no!"  screamed  the  terrified  girl.  "You  will 
murder  me  !  Matthew !  oh,  save  me  !" 

"  Matthew  has  gone  home.  We  have  been  driven  here 
by  a  faithful  servant  of  mine,"  said  the  gentleman,  for 
such  we  must  acknowledge  him  to  be.  "  But  let  me  entreat 
you  to  make  no  resistance ;  my  protection,  in  that  case, 
would  be  of  no  avail." 

Helen  felt  the  truth  of  this  remark,  and  quietly  allowed 
herself  to  be  led  up  the  wooden  steps  of  what  she  supposed 
to  be  one  of  the  old-fashioned  country-houses,  situated  in 
the  environs  of  New  York. 

She  was  not  mistaken.  The  sound  of  the  carriage  had 
attracted  an  old  woman,  who  opened  the  door,  and  ushered 
Helen  and  her  mysterious  companion  into  a  small  pailour, 
rather  dimly  illuminated. 


30  HELEN  LEESON: 

There  sat,  in  a  large  arm-chair  near  the  fire,  an  elderly 
gentleman,  who  rose  as  they  entered,  and  bowing  to  Helen 
with  great  courtesy,  requested  her  to  take  the  seat  opposite 
to  him,  which  she  did,  determined  that  no  weakness  on  her 
part  should  betray  the  violent  agitation  of  her  feelings. 

Helen's  first  impulse,  however,  was  to  cast  a  hurried 
glance  at  her  ravisher.  The  scrutiny  was  most  satisfactory 
and  reassuring.  But  he  had  said  that  her  fate  that  night 
depended  not  upon  him ! 

"Now,  father,"  said  the  young  man,  with  bitterness,  "I 
b'ave  obeyed  your  orders, — explain  my  ungentlemanly  con- 
duct to  Miss  Leeson.  Would  that  I  had  never  made  that 
awful  promise !"  So  saying,  he  sat  down  near  the  table, 
and  buried  his  head  in  his  hands. 

•'Your  conduct,. Walter?"  said  the  old  man.  "If  all 
•were  held  responsible  for  actions  far  more  dishonourable 
than  yours,  dreadful  would  be  the  account  some  would  have 
to  render.  Now,  Miss  Leeson,"  he  added,  turning  to  Helen, 
who  sat  enveloped  in  her  cloak,  as  pale  and  motionless  as 
a  beautiful  statue,  "  I  will  comply  with  my  son's  request, 
and  explain  the  extraordinary  circumstances  which  have 
made  you  this  night  my  unwilling  guest.  But,  before  I  can 
make  you  understand  my  object,  it  is  essential  that  I  should 
speak  of  the  past — of  events  which  occurred  some  forty 
years  ago,  and  which,  of  course,  are  unknown  to  you. 
You  may  have  heard,  however,  that  your  father  was  not 
always  the  proud,  wealthy,  overbearing  merchant  he  now 
is.  But,  no !  Robert  Leeson's  pride  is  not  of  that  noble 
kind  which  boasts  of  former  poverty  and  self-made  pros- 
perity Well,  this  is  nothing  to  the  point.  I  would,  if 
possible,  avoid  all  useless  criminations ;  and  besides,"  ha 
added,  looking  at  the  clock,  "  I  have  but  an  hour  before 
me,  and  much  must  be  done  and  told  in  that  short  space  of 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  31 

time  Some  forty  years  ago,"  he  continued,  hurriedly, 
"  Robert  Leeson  and  I  came  over  from  Ireland,  our  native 
country,  as  cabin-boys,  in  the  bark  Donna  Maria ;  not  that 
I  was  too  poor  to  pay  my  passage,  but  I  was  wise  enough 
to  keep  the  few  hundreds  my  mother  had  given  me,  to  build 
my  fortune  in  this  land  of  promise.  Not  so  with  Leeson. 
lie  had  not  a  penny  in  the  world.  He  had  been  a  wild 
boy  at  school,  and  his  father  had  sent  him  to  sea,  hoping 
that  a  life  of  privation  and  severe  discipline  would  tame  his. 
unmanageable  spirit.  The  poor  fellow  (I  was  fool  enough 
to  attach  myself  to  him)  was  wretched,  in  despair.  Ill  all 
the  passage,  unable  to  move,  he  drank  not  a  drop  of  water, 
tasted  not  a  morsel  of  food  that  I  did  not  bring  to  him. 
Many  were  the  words  of  comfort  which  soothed  his  troubled 
mind ;  and  a  solemn  promise  to  share  my  all  with  him 
brought  joy  and  hope  to  the  sick  boy's  heart. 

"  We  arrived  in  New  York.  Robert  had  recovered  his 
health  some  time  before  we  reached  the  port,  and  I  had  dis- 
covered several  traits  in  my  companion's  character  which 
made  me  regret  the  rash  promise  I  had  made.  However, 
I  felt  that  it  would  be  dishonourable  to  withdraw  myself 
from  an  engagement  which  I  considered  sacred.  I  there- 
fore told  Leeson  that  we  would  both  seek  employment,  and 
that  as  soon  as  I  had  found  some  permanent  and  profitable 
occupation,  I  would  let  him  know.  Meanwhile,  I  furnished 
him  with  the  means  of  subsistence  from  my  scanty  purse. 

"An  opportunity  most  propitious  of  beginning  business 
on  a  moderate  scale  soon  offered  itself.  I  determined  not 
to  allow  it  to  escape ;  and  having  informed  Leeson  of  my 
plans,  I  made  all  the  necessary  arrangements,  rented  a 
store  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  and  we  began  the  dry 
goods  business,  under  the  firm  of — but  you  need  not  hear 
my  name,  now.  As  luck  would  have  it— or  thanks,  perhaps, 


32  HELEN    LEESOX: 

to  my  unremitting  exertions — we  were  most  fortunate ;  and 
six  months  after,  when  I  settled  our  accounts,  I  gave  Lee- 
son  a  sum  four  times  as  large  as  the  whole  of  my  small  for- 
tune when  we  began  business.  Our  success  continued,  and 
for  fifteen  years  we  met  with  no  reverses.  At  that  time, 
we  concluded  that,  our  credit  being  considerable,  and  the 
means  of  increasing  our  business  within  our  reach,  it  would 
be  advisable  to  take  a  finer  store,  and  assume  a  stand  which 
our  capital  completely  justified.  I  had  married  about  five 
years  previous  to  this  period,  and  Walter  was  then  a  child — 
an  apparent  favourite  with  my  partner,  who  was  wont  to 
say — 'Wait  till  I  get  married,  Walter.  I  will  send  to  Paris 
for  a  little  wife  for  you.'  "  Here  the  old  man  paused  an  in- 
stant, evidently  much  affected.  "  But  why  recall  the  only 
sweet  recollections  of  those  days?"  he  added,  dashing  away 
a  tear.  Helen  and  Walter  had  not  moved.  "About  the 
time  I  allude  to,"  he  continued,  "  our  business  required  my 
presence  in  Europe.  I  regretted  leaving  my  wife  and  child, 
and  alas !  felt  no  security  as  regarded  my  business.  Not 
that  I  entirely  mistrusted  my  partner's  honesty ;  but  he 
was  careless,  irregular  in  his  habits,  and  in  fact  incapable 
of  taking  so  large  a  responsibility.  However,  he  was 
equally  unable  to  fill  my  mission  abroad,  and  no  alternative 
was  left.  I  started  with  a  heavy  heart  and  dark  misgiv- 
ings, which,  alas !  deceived  me  not.  I  left  my  home  a 
prosperous,  wealthy  man,  and  returned  to  it  six  months 
afterward,  ruined — disgraced — a  bankrupt !  And  still,  not 
one  word  of  reproach  passed  my  lips  as  I  met  my  partner, 
who  acknowledged  that  rash  speculations  on  his  part  had 
rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  meet  his  engagements. 
We  parted.  I  settled  the  business  to  the  best  of  my 
ability,  but  in  a  very  unsatisfactory  manner  to  my  credit- 
ors, who  were  harsh  and  cruel  in  their  accusations.  I  was 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  33 

known  to  be  the  leading  head  in  our  concern,  and  the 
whole  blame  was  thrown  upon  me,  not  only  by  strangers, 
but  by  Leeson  himself,  as  1  afterward  heard ;  the  man 
whom  I  had  loved,  protected,  raised  from  obscurity  at  the 
expense  of  my  very  being,  and  who  had  robbed  me,  basely 
robbed  me,  of  eighty  thousand  dollars!" 

"  It  is  false !"  exclaimed  Helen,  suddenly  roused  from 
her  lethargy.  "  My  father  never  could  have  acted  thus  !" 

"Be  calm,  young  lady,"  continued  the  old  man;  "my 
story  is  not  finished.  Many  months  elapsed  before  I  had 
the  conviction  of  what  I  had  suspected.  A  clerk  in  our 
employ  made  the  dreadful  confession  on  his  death-bed; 
and  while  I  was  struggling  with  want  and  despair,  Leeson, 
who  had  always  been  fond  of  society,  was  courting,  nay, 
marrying,  the  rich  Miss  Marsy,  and  with  her  money  and 
mine  he  established  a  house  on  an  extensive  scale.  Happy, 
prosperous,  not  once  did  he  inquire  the  fate  of  his  former 
partner.  Ill  luck  seemed  to  pursue  me ;  but  I  could  have 
stood  all,  had  heaven  left  me  the  blessed  angel  who  had 
supported  and  comforted  me.  My  wife,  my  poor  Mary, 
was  taken ;  and  as  her  holy  spirit  fled  from  me,  the  angel 
of  darkness  took  possession  of  my  wretched  self.  I  could 
stand  it  no  longer.  I  went  to  Leeson,  told  him  that  I 
knew  of  his  disgraceful  conduct,  and  threatened  to  expose 
him  if  he  did  not  return  my  money  to  me.  He  dared  me 
to  dc  it.  Who  would  believe  it  ?  How  could  I  prove  it  ? 
And,  finally,  as  I  used  some  bitter  and  harsh  expressions, 
he  ordered  me  from  his  counting-house — drove  me  from 
his  threshhold !  Oh !  that  action  has  heaped  coals  of 
vengeance  on  his  head !  I  returned  to  my  home  an  al- 
tered, a  wicked  man ! 

"  Eighteen  years  have  I  cherished  that  awful  desire  of 
revenge ;  and  now  that  it  is  within  my  reach,  I  tremble  at 


34  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  thought  of  indulging  it !     But  no,  no ;  pity  cannot 
enter  this  broken,  this  agonized  heart !    It  must  be  done  !" 

Helen  moved  not,  but  all  the  blood  in  her  veins  had 
rushed  to  her  aching  brain. 

After  a  pause,  her  mysterious  tormentor  proceeded  in  a 
hurried,  agitated  manner — 

"  I  did  not  lose  sight  of  Robert  Leeson  in  his  prosperity. 
I  heard  of  his  having  a  son — not  of  that  glorious  kind  which 
could  gratify  a  father's  pride.  I  heard  of  his  second  de- 
formed daughter.  There,  too,  was  no  chance  for  the 
indulgence  of  his  favourite  passion.  I  met  you,  and  my 
mind  was  made  up  at  once.  You  weie  the  blade  wherewith 
to  make  the  guilty  man's  heart  bleed.  But  how  could  I 
accomplish  my  object  ?  Walter,  the  very  moral  and  phy- 
sical image  of  his  sainted  mother,  never  would  consent  to 
be  my  agent  in  this  mysterious  proceeding.  Long,  long 
did  I  ponder  over  the  means  of  executing  my  purpose. 
For  the  last  six  months  I  assumed  a  different  character — 
went  out  with  my  son,  even  took  him  to  the  opera  when- 
ever he  had  a  chance  of  seeing  you ;  and  I  gradually 
watched  the  effects  of  my  exertions,  which — thanks  to  your 
extraordinary  beauty,  and  perhaps  to  fate,  that  faithfnl 
avenger — were  successful.  You  became  the  very  light  of 
his  life  !" 

"  Father,  father !"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  "  for 
God's  sake,  spare  me  !" 

"Why  so  ?  Miss  Leeson  may  be  proud  of  the  conquest," 
added  the  father  with  bitterness.  "  Well,  one  day  I  re- 
minded Walter  of  his  mother's  last  prayer,  to  be  a  dutiful 
son  to  me,  to  follow  my  least  injunctions.  I  made  him 
swear  solemnly  upon  the  Bible,  under  pain  of  my  curse, 
that  he  would  obey  my  orders,  and  then  I  declared  to 
him  what  my  plans  were ;  to  devise  some  means  of  bring- 


A   PEEP  AT   NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.  35 

ing  you  to  this  house,  and  compelling  you  to  marry  him  • 
this  very  night." 

Helen  started  up  as  though  she  had  been  stung  by  a 
viper.  One  scream  of  agony  escaped  her  lips,  and  she  fell 
back  on  the  arm-chair. 

Her  merciless  persecutor  continued — 

"  I  have  made  all  the  necessary  arrangements.  The 
minister  will  be  here  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Miss  Lee- 
«on,  you  must  to-night  become  my  son's  wife,  after  which 
you  will  return  to  your  father's,  and  I  shall  never  attempt 
to  see  you  again.  Or,  if  you  refuse  to  comply  with  my 
wishes,  I  will  detain  you  here  a  week.  Your  absence  can- 
not be  explained.  The  distress  of  your  family — the  loss  of 
your  reputation — consider  all  this,  and  decide  for  yourself. 
I  leave  your  fate  in  your  own  hands." 

Helen  saw  and  felt  how  impossible  it  would  be  to  extri- 
cate herself  from  the  horrible  catastrophe.  In  one  moment 
her  mind  was  filled  with  contrary  visions  of  the  dread- 
ful alternative.  A  ring  was  heard  at  the  'bell.  The  old 
gentleman  rose  and  left  the  room  for  a  few  moments. 

" Oh !"  exclaimed  the  wretched  girl,  "can  you  not 
save  me  ?  Speak — speak,  Walter — whoever  you  are  !  If 
you  have  any  pity  in  your  soul,  spare  me  this  bitter 
trial !" 

"  I  cannot !"  was  the  sad  answer.  "  This  minute  I 
would  give  my  life  to  avert  the  sacrifice,  but  my  father  has 
declared  that  you  would  be  reserved  for  a  fate  a  thousand 
times  worse,  if  I  withdrew  my  consent."  The  door 
o;  ened. 

"What  is  your  answer,  Miss  Leeson?" 

"I  am  ready!"  said  Helen,  her  blanched  lip  quivering 
with  pride  and  anger.  She  tore  off  the  wreath  of  golden 

grapes  which  ornamented  her   hair,   threw  it  from  her. 

4 


36  HELEN  LEESON: 

wrapped  her  cloak  around  her,  and  stood  apparently 
unmoved. 

"Walter,"  said  the  stranger,  "escort  your  bride." 

The  young  man  looked  up,  with  an  expression  of  coun- 
tenance far  'more  wretched  than  Helen's.  He  rose  and 
followed  his  father,  who  led  the  way  into  an  adjoining 
room.  There  stood  the  minister  in  his  robes'.  The  old 
woman  who  had  opened  the  door  was  present  also,  appa- 
rently unconscious  of  what  was  going  on.  The-  ceremony 
began  ;  but  when  the  minister  said — "  Helen,  will  you  take 
Walter  to  be  your  wedded  husband?"  the  poor  child  thought 
that  the  very  powers  of  darkness  would  appear  to  prevent 
the  deed.  She  hesitated  a  moment — but  it  was  said  at  last, 
and  Helen,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  proud  and  arro- 
gant Robert  Leeson,  became  the  wife  of  a  stranger — a  man 
whose  name  was  unknown,  and  who  had  become  an  object 
of  execration  to  her. 

As  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  over,  the  minister  and  the 
old  man  left  the  room.  Helen  heard  the  sound  of  the  car- 
riage. It  was  four  o'clock. 

"  Now — now  let  me  go!"  she  exclaimed. 

Walter  opened  the  door  and  led  her  down  the  steps. 

"Will  you  not  allow  me  to  take  you  home  ?"  he  said. 

"No — no!  I  can  go  alone — home — any  where — far 
from  this  house  and  its  inmates!"  she  exclaimed.  "Oh! 
you  have  broken  my  heart — you  have  blighted  my  whole 
existence!" 

"  Speak  not  thus,  Helen.  Say  not  that  you  will 
never  forgive  the  innocent  part  I  have  taken  in  this 
mysterious  event.  Oh !  one  word  before  we  part  for- 
ever!" he  said.  "One  word  of  mercy!  Will  you  not 
forgive  me  ?" 

" Never!"  she  cried,  as  she  sprang  into  the  carriage; 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW   YOKK    SOCIETY.  37 

and,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands,  burst  into  a  violent 
flood  of  tears. 

The  carriage  door  was  closed,  and  an  hour  after  these 
extraordinary  proceedings,  Helen  stopped  at  her  father's 
door.  Oh  !  how  changed — how  different  from  the  brilliant 
girl,  who,  but  a  few  hours  before,  had  left  that  happy 
home! 


88  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  IV. 

How  differently  did  the  two  sisters  rest  that  night. 
While  Helen  in  vain  endeavoured  to  calm  her  agitated 
spirit,  and  sought  to  obliterate  the  dreadful  vision  from 
her  memory,  Anna  slept  the  sleep  of  the  pure.  Sweet 
Bounds  of  love  and  peace  echoed  around  her,  and  radiant 
dreams  visited  the  young  girl,  such  as  the  worldly  seldom 
know. 

Anna's  was  a  bright,  a  holy  spirit.  Nature,  in  afflicting 
the  body,  had  gifted  the  mind  with  her  choicest  treasures ; 
and  as  she  herself  declared,  many  were  the  joys  of  Anna's 
inward  being  which  others  could  never  feel.  Oh  !  blessed 
are  those  whom  a  link  of  earthly  sorrow  binds  so  closely  to 
the  Redeemer — so  closely  that  the  murmurs  of  heavenly 
communion  can  reach  their  hearts  unbroken  by  louder 
sounds! 

The  young  girl's  life  was  a  busy  one  of  affection  and 
charity.  She  was  the  brilliant  light  ever  ready  to  illumi- 
nate the  path  of  the  afflicted.  She  had  her  poor  to  visit, 
her  young  people  to  teach.  There  never  came  an  appeal 
to  Anna's  heart  and  purse  that  did  not  convey  to  the 
sufferer  words  of  comfort  and  substantial  relief.  Thus  it 
was,  that  when  at  night  rest  visited  that  kind,  devoted 
child,  the  angels  who  had  been  her  constant  companions 
during  the  day  still  watched  near  her  pillow. 

"Is  it  late?"  said  Anna  Leeson  to  Sophie,  the  little 
French  maid,  as  she  made  her  noiseless  entrance  that 
morning. 

"  Seven  o'clock,  Miss  Anna.     Will  you  get  up  now?" 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         89 

"  Oh  !  yes.  I  expect  my  scholar  at  nine,  and  must  see 
to  my  birds  and  flowers.  At  what  hour  did  sister  come  in, 
Sophie?" 

"  Indeed,  I  don't  exactly  know,  as  there  is  no  clock  in 
the  library.  Madam  had  given  me  leave  to  lie  down  on 
the  sofa,  and  I  was  fast  asleep  when  mademoiselle  rang 
the  bell.  She  ran  up  stairs,  all  muffled  up  in  her 
cloak,  and  bid  me  go  to  bed  immediately,  as  she  did 
not  require  my  services.  I  think  she  said  it  was  three 
o'clock." 

"Did  I  not  hear  a  noise  earlier  in  the  night,  Sophie? 
I  am  sure  I  did.  It  was  a  man's  step,  and  the  sound 
seemed  to  come  from  Matthew's  room,  just  above  here.  I 
first  thought  he  had  got  into  a  frolic.  You  know,  Sophie, 
that  has  happened  several  times,  lately;  in  fact,  I  gave 
him  a  good  lecture,  the  other  day." 

"Yes,  miss,"  said  Sophie,  laughing;  "he  told  us  about 
it,  and  added  that  Miss  Anna's  scoldings  were  as  sweet  as 
rock-candy!" 

"Well,  the  fact  is,"  said  Anna,  blushing,  "  I  acted  some- 
what against  my  principles,  for  I  actually  promised  him  a 
new  coat  for  Christmas,  if  he  gave  up  drinking." 

"So  he  said,"  replied  Sophie,  while  she  prepared  every 
thing  for  her  mistress's  toilet. 

"  Have  you  written  to  your  mother,  lately  ?."  continued 
the  young  monitress,  as  though  she  were  twenty  years  older 
than  her  pupil. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Anna ;  I  write  regularly,  since  you  told  me 
how  wrong  it  was  to  neglect  that  sacred  duty.  Ah !  I  re- 
member," added  Sophie  ;  "  the  noise  you  heard  must  have 
been  your  father  coming  home.  I  know  he  told  Jackson 
it  was  twelve  o'clock." 

"No,  no!"  interrupted  Anna,  who  always  avoided  any 

4* 


40  HELEN  LEESON: 

allusion  to  the  only  subject  which  gave  her  positive  pain ; 
"  it  was  later  than  that ;  and  if  I  were  not  sure  that  Mat- 
thew drove  Helen  home  at  three  o'clock,  I  should  be  con- 
vinced that  it  was  he,  and  his  step  was  not  a  steady  ?ne 
by  any  means ;  it  woke  me  out  of  a  sound  sleep,  which, 
however,  soon  closed  my  peepers  again,"  she  added, 
smiling.  "Now  I  am  ready  for  you,  my  chickeys,"  she 
said,  preparing  to  provide  her  birds  with  their  daily  food. 
"  And  then  I  will  take  a  look  at  my  roses  and  camelias. 
I  must  have  a  fine  one  in  bloom  for  Aunt  Seraph's  birth- 
day; she  never  forgets  mine.  Don't  you  remember, 
Sophie,  the  magnificent  basket  of  violets  she  sent  me,  last 
year,  with  that  sweet  little  message  on  gilt  paper — 
'Herself  to  herself?'  No  one  but  Aunt  Seraph  could 
think  of  such  a  phrase  as  that.  I  was  so  pleased,  that 
for  half  a  second  I  was  actually  vain.  Is  mamma  up, 
Sophie  ?" 

"  I  believe  not ;  Mrs.  Boget  told  me  that  she  was  wait- 
ing for  madam's  orders  in  the  sewing-room." 

"  Well,  then,  I  must  creep  in  and  take  a  glimpse  of  sis- 
ter. I  love  to  see  her  asleep,  she  is  so  beautiful  !" 

And  the  sweet  child  opened  Helen's  door,  and  mov,ed 
noiselessly  toward  her  bed.  She  was  asleep.  Her  hair, 
which  she  had  scarcely  arranged,  as  she  threw  herself  on 
her  pillow,  exhausted  by  the  violent  emotions  of  the 
night,  hung  loose  around  her.  The  eyes  were  closed,  but 
the  tear  still  glistened  on  the  dark  lashes,  and  the  lip 
quivered  as  though  the  agony  were  still  within  that  heav- 
ing bosom,  upon  which  the  hands  were  clasped  as  in  prayer. 
A  bright  flush  enhanced  her  exquisite  beauty,  but  caused 
the  anxious  girl  to  pause  and  look  again  with  alarm  at  the 
unusual  signs  which  Helen's  countenance  betrayed. 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  41 

"She  is  ill,"  she  muttered — "very  ill!"  And  leaving 
the  room  with  the  same  light  step,  she  went  down  to  the 
sewing-room  to  seek  the  seamstress,  whose  opinion  she 
wished  to  have  before  communicating  her  fears  to  her 
mother. 

Mrs.  Boget  was  one  of  those  valuable  domestic  authori- 
ties whom  a  few  families  still  possess,  but  who  are,  alas ! 
almost  reduced  to  traditionary  beings.  She  had  lived  with 
Mrs.  Leeson  since  her  marriage,  had  nursed  all  her  chil- 
dren from  their  birth  with  a  tender,  motherly  care  ;  more 
judicious  than  can  generally  be  expected,  and,  in  fact, 
considered  them  quite  her  own.  There  was  not  an  event, 
great  or  trifling,  in  which  Mrs.  Boget's  opinion  was  not 
asked ;  and  this  mark  of  regard  and  esteem  on  the  part  of 
the  whole  family  had  become  her  due,  from  the  extreme 
discretion  with  which  she  behaved  at  all  times. 

That  morning  the  worthy  woman  was  as  usual  at  work 
in  a  comfortable  little  room  devoted  to  her  especial  use, 
and  which  often,  even  at  that  period,  was  visited  by  the 
young  people  for  the  sake  of  having  a  chat  with  the  friend 
of  their  earliest  childhood. 

"Boget,"  said  Anna,  as  she  came  in  with  a  look  of  con 
cern  on  her  usually  bright  countenance,  "  Helen  is  ill,  I 
am  afraid ;  I  wish  you  would  come  up  to  see  her." 

"Yes,  darling,"  was  the  immediate  reply.  And  the  oil 
servant  rose  and  followed  Anna's  tottering  step. 

Boget  was  quite  as  worried,  if  not  more  so,  than  Anna,  at 
the  extraordinary  appearance  of  her  precious  Helen,  as  she 
called  her.  Without  alarming  Mrs.  Leeson,  she  despatched 
Caleb,  the  waiter's  assistant,  for  Dr.  Clifford,  the  family 
physician,  and  then  went  in  to  her  mistress  to  take  her 
orders,  leaving  Sophie  to  watch  over  the  patient. 


42  HELEN   LEESON  : 

"Are  my  daughters  well,  Boget?"  was  Mrs.  Leeson's 
first  question. 

"  I  think,  ma'am,  Miss  Helen  has  over-fatigued  herself, 
and  has  a  little  fever.  I  told  Caleb  to  step  around  to  the 
doctor's  before  he  starts  on  his  morning  calls." 

"  That  was  right.  Oh  !  this  life  of  dissipation  will  kill 
the  poor  child  !"  added  the  anxious  mother,  as  she  hastily 
finished  dressing ;  and  telling  Mrs.  Boget  to  send  Anna 
to  her  father  to  attend  to  his  breakfast,  she  hurried  up 
stairs. 

Helen  awoke  as  Mrs.  Leeson  entered  the  room,  and 
started  up  with  a  wild  look  of  terror,  which  chilled  the 
poor  mother's  heart. 

"  Helen,  darling,  what  is  the  matter  ?  Are  you  in  pain  ? 
Speak — tell  me  !" 

The  agitated  girl  threw  her  arms  around  her  mother's 
neck,  and  sobbed  violently. 

Just  then  Mrs.  Boget  came  in,  followed  by  Doctor  Clif- 
ford, the  dear  old  welcome  comforter,  whose  presence  al- 
ways soothed  a  pain  or  dried  a  tear. 

"  Well,  well !  what  is  going  on  here  ?"  he  said.  "  Our 
fairy  belle  in  bed  ?  And  after  creating  such  a  sensation 
last  night  ?  I  have  heard  all  about  it ;  for  I  was  called 
this  morning  to  attend  Lord  Devere,  who  was  more  fright- 
ened than  hurt,"  added  the  doctor,  laughing.  As  may 
well  be  supposed,  these  reminiscences  of  broken  joys  and 
crushed  triumphs  were  not  calculated  to  calm  the  aching 
spirit  of  poor  Helen.  Finding  that  words  did  not  do,  the 
good  doctor  ordered  a  dose  of  ether,  which  soon  quieted 
the  patient;  and  after  a  short  time,  a  sweet  sleep,  during 
which  the  fond  mother  could  not  be  induced  to  leave  her 
child,  relieved  Helen  of  her  suffering. 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  43 

But  the  doctor  was  not  satisfied  with  the  pulse  of  his 
patient.  He  told  Mrs.  Boget,  who  was  always  the  deposi- 
tory of  his  medical  conclusions,  that  he  dreaded  a  nervous 
fever,  and  would  return  in  the  evening  to  see  the  effect  of 
a  composing  draught  which  he  had  ordered.  His  fears 
were  realized ;  that  night,  Mrs.  Leeson,  Aunt  Seraph,  and 
Boget  watched  by  the  sick  bed  with  aching  hearts. 
Helen's  delirium  almost  amounted  to  insanity. 

"Oh!  mother,  aunt,  save  me!"  she  cried.  "There, 
there  ;  don't  you  see  him  ?  He  will  murder  me  !  Your 
wife?  Oh!  never,  never!"  And  it  was  with  difficulty 
that  the  tender  nurses  prevented  the  wretched  girl  from 
rushing  out  of  her  bed. 

Anna,  in  tears,  knelt  to  pray  for  the  precious  sister  she 
loved  so  well.  And  where  was  Robert  Leeson  ? 

The  unhappy  father  paced  his  splendid  saloons  the 
greater  part  of  the  night,  in  an  agony  of  mind  which  no 
words  can  express  ;  for  Tie  felt  that  the  trial  was  not  unde- 
served, and  that  all  his  earthly  joys  were  about  to  be 
snatched  from  him.  But  God  is  merciful ;  how  much  more 
so  than  man ! 

Helen  recovered — thanks  to  her  extreme  youth  and  Doc- 
tor Clifford,  nay,  also  to  the  excellent  nursing  which  she 
received  from  the  loving  ones  around  her.  But  was  she 
happy?  When  restored  to  her  senses,  she  could  look 
back,  and  with  her  mind's  sight  recall  all — every  detail  of 
her  existence  during  the  last  four  days.  A  feeling  of 
despair  filled  her  heart !  But  bitter  as  it  was,  far  more 
miserable  was  the  afflicted  one,  who  night  after  night 
watched  the  light  from  Helen's  window  during  that  cold 
December  weather,  and  once  only  ventured  to  inquire  of  the 
doctor,  as  he  left  the  house,  "  about  Miss  Leeson's  health." 


44  HELEN  LEESON: 

"Better,  much  better,  sir,"   said  the  kind  physician; 

"but  she  was  very  near  taking  her  flight  to   the  happy 

land  up  there.     Are   you  ill,  young   man?"  he   added; 

"you  are  very  pale." 

"  No,  no  ;  thank  you !     Good  morning,  sir." 

"  A  queer  fellow,  that !"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  entered 

his  gig. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         45 


CHAPTER  V. 

AND  where  was  the  Countess  Laura  during  her  cousin's 
illness  ?  Alas !  she  was  unable  to  go  out.  A  violent 
cough  had  alarmed  Miss  Marsy  so  much,  that  she  positively 
forbade  her  niece's  leaving  the  house.  Besides,  what 
could  she  do  for  Helen,  who  had  excellent  care,  and  whose 
ravings  would  have  broken  Laura's  heart? — that  heart 
already  so  torn  ! 

Let  us  pause  a  moment,  and  say  a  few  words  of  the 
fate  of  that  young  and  beautiful  creature,  whom  grief  had 
crushed  so  soon.  Laura's  mother,  Mrs.  Elliot,  was  the 
youngest  sister  of  Mrs.  Leeson  and  Miss  Marsy.  She 
was  scarcely  twenty  when  Laura  was  born,  and  one  year 
sufficed  to  make  the  child  an  orphan ;  the  mother  died  of 
consumption,  and  George  Elliot,  whom  despair  at  the  loss 
of  his  lovely  companion  had  driven  from  home,  was  lost 
at  sea.  Aunt  Seraph,  who  had  ever  watched  with  fond 
care  over  her  young  sister,  immediately  claimed  the  little 
one  whom  fate  left  thus  unprotected.  Miss  Marsy 's  means 
being  considerable,  she  had  always  chosen  to  occupy  a 
house  of  her  own  ;  perhaps  because  Mr.  Leeson's  restless, 
imperious  temper  little  agreed  with  her  meek  and  gentle 
spirit. 

The  precious  infant  was  a  welcome  blessing  in  the 
maiden's  household  ;  even  the  old  servants  were  glad  to 
receive  the  little  one,  who  was  to  be  as  a  blooming  flower 
in  the  midst  of  them. 


46  HELEN   LEESON: 

Laura  grew  up  in  that  congenial  atmosphere,  and  her 
fine  mind,  well  trained  by  her  aunt's  valuable  examples 
and  precepts,  brought  forth  fruits  of  intelligence,  such  as 
could  well  satisfy  her  adopted  parent.  But  (there  is,  alas ! 
always  a  but)  Laura  was  wild — too  wild  for  her  feeble  con- 
stitution. No  sooner  had  her  sixteenth  birthday  dawned, 
and  brought  to  the  young  girl  all  the  charms  which  our 
American  women  so  frequently  possess,  than  she  became 
impatient  to  go  into  society,  to  mix  with  the  gay,  to  be 
courted,  admired  ;  in  short,  to  receive  the  tribute  which  she 
felt  was  her  due.  This  restless  and  frequently-expressed 
desire  of  her  darling  child  was  a  great  trial  to  Aunt  Seraph : 
she  could  not  understand  it,  and  for  the  first  time  she 
spoke  a  few  harsh  words  to  her  niece. 

"Really,  aunt,"  Laura  replied,  "you  are  unjust:  here 
have  I  spent  sixteen  years  in  quiet  retirement ;  and  now, 
that  I  want  to  take  a  glimpse,  just  a  glimpse,  of  the  fine 
things  of  this  world,  you  scold  as  though  the  very  desire 
were  sinful!" 

"  You  mistake  me,  dearest ;  my  only  motive  in  opposing 
your  wish  is,  that  you  may  become  too  fond  of  dissipation, 
at  the  expense  of  your  health.  Your  poor  mother  certainly 
injured  hers,  by  being  out  night  after  night  in  all  weathers," 
fihe  added. 

"  Well,  what  is  the  use  of  living,  if  one  is  doomed  to  be 
shut  up  in  a  cage?"  Bitterly  did  Laura  regret  those  cruel 
words  when  she  looked  up  from  her  work,  and  saw  tears 
streaming  down  that  loved  countenance,  which  had  always 
beamed  with  affection  and  devotion  to  her  ;  and  how  great 
had  been  the  care  taken  to  render  that  cage  an  earthly 
Paradise  !  Every  comfort,  every  luxury,  had  been  lavished 
upon  her ;  she  felt  how  ungrateful  she  was.  "  Forgive  me, 
dearest — best,"  she  said,  as  she  knelt  and  wiped  the  pearly 


A   PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.  47 

drop  that  fell  on  Aunt  Seraph's  embroidery ;  and  Laura 
kissed  the  withered  cheek,  and  forced  the  dear  friend  to 
smile. 

"  Now,  I  will  give  up  the  idea  entirely,"  she  said  ;  "  and 
never  worry  you  about  it  again."  Rash,  rash  promise  !  The 
following  winter,  Mrs.  Leeson  gave  a  few  small  parties  for 
Helen,  who  was  leaving  school,  and  had  a  large  circle  of 
young  associates.  Laura  was  there,  of  course,  in  her  simple 
white  muslin  dress,  and  many  were  the  expressions  of  ad- 
miration elicited  by  those  soft  blue  eyes  and  luxuriant 
curls — so  light,-  so  fair,  it  seemed  as  though  a  sunbeam 
surrounded  the  beautiful  countenance. 

Robert  Leeson  was  then  entering  manhood — a  good-na- 
tured, noble  fellow,  but  possessing  a  very  small  amount  of 
capacity.  He  had  grown  up  with  the  fatal  conviction  that 
his  father  was  wealthy,  and  therefore,  expecting-  to  inherit 
a  large  property,  why  should  he  rack  his  brain  to  acquire 
knowledge  which  he  never  would  stand  in  need  of?  Year 
after  year  brought  Robert  home  for  the  Christmas  holi- 
days, and  still  no  improvement  was  perceptible.  In  vain 
Aunt  Seraph  reasoned  with  the  boy,  promised  most  tempt- 
ing rewards  if  he  would  exert  himself  to  obtain  some 
distinction  in  his  classes,  and  prophesied  bitter  disappoint- 
ments for  the  future.  He  would  laugh  at  her  warnings, 
and  declare  that  study  was  a  bore.  "  Time  and  tide  wait 
for  no  one."  So  it  was  with  Robert  Leeson;  his  nineteenth 
birthday  came  around,  and  he  was  a  man  before  he  ever 
thought  of  the  necessity  of  assuming  a  position  in  the 
world. 

Mr.  Leeson,  too  much  engaged  by  his  business,  and,  like 
many  fathers,  too  indifferent  to  the  moral  training  of  his 
son,  was  sadly  disappointed  when  the  certainty  of  Robert's 
being  any  thing  but  brilliant  flashed  across  his  mind.  His 

5 


48  HELEN  LEESON  : 

cherished  dream  had  been  to  make  a  lawyer  of  his  son — to 
see  him  distinguish  himself  in  a  career  which  he  considered 
far  above  that  which  chance  had  assigned  to  him.  But 
with  such  an  education  as  Robert  had  received,  he  was 
totally  unfit  to  undertake  the  immense  amount  of  study 
which  would  have  been  requisite  to  make  a  lawyer  of  him  \ 
besides  which,  he  brought  forth,  in  opposition  to  his  father's 
wish,  the  very  same  argument  which  had  mastered  his  bet- 
ter judgment  ever  since  he  could  reason  at  all. 

"  What  is  the  use,  father,  of  torturing  my  poor  brain — of 
filling  it  with  all  that  trash  ?  Why,  if  I  were  the  son  of 
a  poor  man,  it  would  be  worth  while." 

"Stupid  fool!"  was  the  gracious  reply.  "  Supposing  I 
was  to  lose  my  fortune  to-inorrow,  what  would  become  of 

you  ?" 

"  Oh  !  that  is  quite  impossible,  you  know  !"  and  as  filial 
submission  is  not,  we  are  sorry  to  say,  one  of  the  leading 
traits  in  the  character  of  the  present  generation,  Robert 
generally  shook  off  the  paternal  authority ;  and  the  conse- 
quence was,  that  Mr.  Leeson,  finding  it  impossible  to  gain 
his  point,  and  dreading  the  idle  life  which  his  son  was  lead- 
ing, insisted  upon  his  going  down  to  the  counting-house 
and  doing  something,  as  he  called  it.  This  generally 
amounted  to  writing  a  letter  or  two,  having  sundry  talks 
with  the  other  clerks,  and  finally  taking  a  walk  up  Broad- 
way at  four  o'clock  to  meet  the  belles.  And  who  was  the 
loveliest  of  that  bevy  of  beauties  who  were  so  prodigal  of 
their  charms  day  after  day  in  that  universal  bazaar  of 
humanity  ?  Who  was  it  that  Robert  met  and  walked  home 
with,  arm  in  arm,  rn  delightful  tete-a-tete,  until  Aunt 
Seraph  declared  that  Laura  was  getting  too  old,  and  must 
not  walk  out  at  that  hour  in  Broadway. 

Laura  was  the  belle  of  belles  in  Robert's  eyes;  and  he 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.  49 

would  have  undergone  any  trial,  nay  would  have  read  the 
most  abstract  volume,  to  obtain  one  smile.  But  Laura  was 
sparing  of  those  smiles  toward  her  amorous  cousin  ;  she  was 
devotedly  attached  to  him,  but  did  not  fancy  his  calling 
her  his  little  wife,  and  looking  at  her  in  that  loving  mannei. 
The  truth  was,  that  Miss  Elliot  was  a  highly-educated  girl ; 
and,  with  that  keen  instinct  which  distinguishes  her  sex, 
she  felt  that  Robert  was  her  inferior  in  knowledge  and  in- 
tellect. The  idea  of  looking  down  upon  this  juvenile 
personification  of  a  husband,  was  most  repugnant  to  Laura's 
feelings ;  and  she  endeavoured  to  check  her  cousin's  increas- 
ing admiration  by  various  little  feminine  rules,  half  in  jest 
and  half  in  earnest. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  discussion  we  have  al- 
luded to  between  kind  Aunt  Seraph  and  her  adopted  child 
took  place.  Perhaps  it  was  in  order  to  shake  off  Robert's 
assiduous  devotion,  that  the  young  girl  was  so  anxious  to 
go  into  society  ;  nay,  but  we  must  own  it,  Dame  Vanity 
was  not  a  stranger  to  that  ardent  wish. 

Mrs.  Grantly  gave  a  birthday  party  for  Helen  that  win- 
ter ;  and  as  nothing  could  be  simply  unostentatiously  ar- 
ranged in  that  brilliant  establishment,  the  juvenile  soiree 
was  almost  a  ball,  save  that,  as  is  customary  in  our  society 
sometimes,  the  married  ladies  were  left  out,  and  fifty  or 
sixty  young  people  were  invited  to  partake  of  the  splendid 
entertainment  of  Grantly  Hall,  as  our  friend  Herman,' 
whom  we  hope  to  meet  soon  again,  called  it.  By-the-by, 
he  was  there,  and  a  great  favourite  with  all  the  ladies. 
Why  not  become  acquainted  with  Herman  at  once  ?  He  is 
such  a  nice  fellow,  and  we  shall  meet  him  often  at  the 
Leesons!  Mrs.  Smith,  Herman's  mother,  had  been  a 
schoolmate  of  Mrs.  Leeson's — a  devoted  friend.  They  mar- 
ried at  the  same  period,  but  far  different  was  their  fate. 


50  HELEN   LEESON  : 

While  the  rich  heiress  settled  in  a  splendid  establishment 
in  New  York,  every  wish  gratified,  hope  offering  every  •" 
curity  for  a  happy  future,  her  friend  went  to  live  quietly  in 
a  country  town  in  New  England,  and  for  many  years  they 
lost  sight  of  each  other.  One  day,  long  after  fate  had 
proved  her  capricious  ways,  Mrs.  Leeson,  whose  married 
life  had  been  clouded  by  bitter  trials,  received  a  letter 
from  the  companion  of  her  childhood.  Hers  had  been  a 
happy  lot,  but  death  had  just  severed  the  tie  which  bound 
her  to  the  joys  of  this  world.  Her  husband  had  been 
taken  ;  and  Mrs.  Smith  entreated  her  friends  to  find  a  situa- " 
tion  for  her  son  Herman  in  a  counting-house  in  New  York. 
Mr.  Leeson  was  appealed  to,  and  as  a  vacancy  offered 
itself  at  that  time  in  his  office,  he  consented  to  take  him. 
Never  had  he  cause  to  repent  the  condescension  he  had 
shown  on  that  occasion.  Young  Smith  proved  a  most 
valuable  acquisition ;  but  one  of  the  moral  tortures  of  his 
employer,  was  the  sad  comparison  which  he  was  forced  to 
make  between  his  clerk  and  his  own  son.  Robert  saw 
not,  felt  not,  the  disadvantage  of  being  thus  placed,  as  it 
were,  in  contrast  to  the  young  man  to  whom  he  was  sin 
cerely  attached.  They  were  friends — devoted  friends. 

But  let  us  return  to  Mrs.  Grantly's  party ;  some  inte- 
resting details  await  us  there.  Among  the  many  beaux 
invited  by  especial  suggestion  of  our  quondam  acquaint- 
ance, Harry  Marvell,  was  Count  Marini,  a  young  Italian 
nobleman  of  great  wealth,  who  was  on  a  pleasure  trip  to 
this  country,  and  who  was  graciously  smiled  upon  by  the 
fair  ladies,  to  whom  the  prospect  of  being  a  countess  was 
most  fascinating.  Count  Arthur  was  a  young  man  of  re- 
fined manners,  elegant  appearance — a  perfect  gentleman  in 
every  respect.  He  had  brought  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  Mr.  Leeson  from  a  correspondent  of  his  in  Naples,  but 


A    PEEP    AT  NEW  YORK   SOCIETY.  51 

had  hitherto  neglected  presenting  it,  under  the  plea  that 
his  stay  in  New  York  was  to  be  very  short,  as  he  was  de- 
sirous of  visiting  the  principal  cities  in  the  Union  before 
the  spring.  Harry  Marvell,  convinced  of  the  effect  he  would 
produce  upon  Mrs.  Grantly  and  her  youthful  guests,  insisted 
upon  the  count's  going  to  the  birthday  party;  and  that 
evening  decided  the  young  man's  fate. 

"  Who  is  that  distinguished-looking  stranger,  Helen  ?" 
whispered  Laura,  as  they  sat  surrounded  by  a  circle  of 
admiring  and  chatty  beaux — say  boys. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Helen;  "but  will  soon,  I  think." 

She  was  not  mistaken.  Mr.  Marvell  came  up  at 'this 
moment  and  introduced  the  young  nobleman  to  the  cousins* 

Helen  aimed  one  or  two  arrows  at  the  count's  heart, 
but  finding  him  invulnerable,  she  turned  her  attention  in 
another  quarter.  Not  so  with  Laura ;  she  began  a  despe- 
rate flirtation,  danced  with  the  young  man  half  of  the 
evening,  and  made  him  promise  that  he  would  call  upon 
her  uncle  the  next  day  to  deliver  his  letter ;  which  he  did, 
we  must  acknowledge,  most  willingly. 

Six  weeks  after,  as  Aunt  Seraph  sat  quietly  at  work  in 
her  library,  indulging  her  favourite  communion  with  the 
little  fairy  which  is  commonly  called  Fancy,  Mrs.  Levett, 
the  housekeeper,  came  in  to  announce  a  visit  from  Count 
Marini. 

"  Not  for  me,  surely,  Levett  ?"  said  Miss  Marsy. 

"  'Tis  indeed,  ma'am.  The  gentleman — a  mighty  hand- 
some one  he  is,  too — asked  for  Miss  Marsy." 

"Very  strange!"  thought  the  maiden.  "I  suppose  the 
young  man  has  got  into  some  scrape  with  Robert  about  his 
admiration  for  Laura."  Unaccustomed  to  the  European 
mode  of  proceeding  under  such  circumstances,  Miss  Marsy 

never  dreamt  of  the  real  motive  of  the  young  man's  visit. 

6* 


52  HELEN  LEESON: 

She  therefore  made  a  hurried  toilet,  being  reluctant  to 
appear  before  such  a  beau  in  her  simple  dishabille.  At- 
tired in  one  of  the  fashionable  cashmeres,  and  a  cap  with 
flashy  ribbons,  which  Laura  had  insisted  upon  her  pur 
chasing,  Aunt  Seraph,  with  her  most  gracious  smile, 
entered  the  drawing-room.  She  was  astounded  when  the 
count  explained  to  her  the  object  of  his  requested  inter- 
view. He  was  in  love,  desperately  in  love  with  Laura, 
and  being  perfectly  independent,  he  came  to  ask  Misa 
Marsy's  consent,  as  the  only  thing  requisite  for  his  happi- 
ness. He  had  not,  he  said,  spoken  plainly  to  Miss  Elliot, 
but  he  hoped  that  she  was  aware  of  his  passion;  and  that 
with  her  aunt's  approval,  she  would  not  reject  him. 

What  could  the  dear  old  friend  say,  as  she  gazed  at  the 
handsome  fellow,  whose  powers  of  fascination  she  could 
scarcely  resist  ?  Was  it  astonishing  that  he  should  have 
succeeded  in  obtaining  Laura's  affection?  She  made 
several  objections,  such  as  his  being  a  foreigner — a  Catho- 
lic ;  but  he  promised  to  live  in  America ;  and  although  he 
would  not  give  up  his  religion,  he  assured  Miss  Marsy  that 
he  never  would  influence  his  wife  in  that  respect. 

Matters  were  at  a  crisis,  when  Laura  happened  to  come 
into  the  drawing-room.  The  young  girl's  blushing  consent 
was  easily  obtained ;  and  before  Arthur  left  the  house,  he 
was  engaged  to  Laura  Elliot. 

Two  months  after,  by  a  bright  afternoon  in  April,  Aunt 
Seraph  stood  at  the  parlour  window,  watching  with  tearful 
eyes  a  carriage  which  was  just  driving  off,  and  which  con- 
tained all  she  loved — her  two  children,  as  she  called  Arthur 
and  Laura — on  their  wedding  tour  to  Niagara.  But  what 
a  joyful  day  was  that  upon  which  the  happy  couple  returned 
to  her  house,  now  their  home !  A  suite  of  rooms,  elegantly 
furnished,  had  been  prepared  for  them ;  and  when  they  sat 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         53 

down  to  dinner,  at  five  o'clock,  Miss  Marsy  exclaimed — • 
u  Well,  God  has  been  bountiful  in  his  blessings  to  me !" 

True  happiness,  they  say,  belongs  not  to  this  land  of 
wo ;  or,  at  least,  if  it  should  dawn  upon  us  at  rare  intervals, 
its  rays  are  soon  dimmed  by  the  dark  cloud  of  adversity. 

Six  months  of  perfect  bliss,  such  as  is  seldom  enjoyed 
here  below,  were  granted  to  Laura  and  her  husband. 
Robert,  who  had  become  gradually  reconciled  to  what  he 
called  Arthur's  usurpation,  was  very  fond  of  the  young 
count,  and  many  were  the  rides  on  horseback  they  took 
together. 

One  fatal  day,  as  Laura,  unconscious  of  evil,  was  enjoy- 
ing a  merry  chat  with  Alice  Irving  and  Helen,  she  was 
suddenly  alarmed  by  a  message  from  her  aunt,  to  come 
home  immediately.  The  carriage  had  been, sent  for  her. 

With  an  anxious  heart,  the  young  countess  entered  her 
home,  which,  alas !  had  been  suddenly  transformed  into  a 
house  of  mourning.  Arthur  had  been  thrown  from  his 
horse,  had  fractured  his  skull,  and  could  not  live  more 
than  a  few  hours. 

Oh !  who  can  describe  the  agony  of  the  young  creature 
whose  every  joy  was  crushed  by  that  fatal  blow? 

"  Dearest — best-loved  !"  murmured  the  young  man,  as 
he  lay  struggling  with  the  ebbing  life  which  but  a  short 
time  before  he  had  grasped  with  so  much  power.  "  Think 
of  yourself,  Laura — think  of  our  child,  whom  I  had  hoped 
to  bless.  Alas  !  alas  !  life  was  sweet  with  thy  love,  my  own 
Laura.  But  God  wills  it  not.  Let  me  die  in  peace  with 
him — with  all!" 

He  did  die,  like  a  Christian  ;  and  as  the  spirit  flew  to  the 
land  of  rest,  Miss  Marsy  and  Levett  carried  out  the  poor 
blighted  one,  who  was  unconscious  of  the  last  farewell.  .  . 

A  change  came  over  that  gloomy,  dismal  abode.    Laura's 


54  HELEN  LEESON: 

tears  still  flowed,  but  they  were  tears  of  love  and  submis- 
sion to  the  divine  decree ;  for  on  the  youthful  mother's 
bosom  lay  a  sleeping  infant — a  blossom  of  love,  which  God 
in  his  mercy  had  sent  to  dry  the  mourner's  tears. 

Little  Arty  was  a  welcome  inmate,  as  his  mother  had 
been  seventeen  years  before ;  and  Aunt  Seraph  once  more 
thought  that  many  blessings  were  hers.  But  Laura's 
drooping  spirit  never  rose  again ;  and  at  times  a  hacking 
cough  and  a  hectic  flush  upon  that  pale  cheek  made  her 
doating  aunt's  heart  ache.  Laura  was  apparently  con- 
tented. Her  devotion  to  the  little  one — the  living  link 
which  bound  her  to  her  departed  husband — was  extreme  ; 
but  save  when  called  upon  to  amuse  little  Arthur,  or  exert 
herself  for  the  benefit  of  others,  a  smile  was  seldom  seen 
upon  that  sad  countenance,  where  joy  had  rested  once,  but 
upon  which  grief  had  left  its  ineffaceable  stamp. 

We  have  said  much — not  too  much,  we  trust — about  the 
young  countess,  as  she  was  Helen's  bosom  friend,  in  affec- 
tion her  sister,  and  the  depositary  of  all  her  cares  and  joys; 
for  between  Helen  and  Anna  years  and  different  pursuits 
had  raised  a  barrier  which  love  could  easily  overleap,  but 
which  rendered  their  intercourse  much  less  congenial  than 
that  which  existed  between  her  cousin  and  herself. 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  55 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"DOCTOR,"  said  Helen  to  the  old  gentleman  who  was 
visiting  his  patient  during  the  last  days  of  her  convalescence, 
"will  you  not  allow  Laura  to  go  out,  now?  I  ani  terribly 
anxious  to  see  her." 

"Well,  yes,"  was  the  welcome  answer.  "  The  weather 
is  very  fine,  to-day.  I  think  you  could  both  take  a  drive. 
You  know,"  he  added,  laughing,  "  I  am  in  duty  bound  to 
restore  you  to  the  host  of  admirers  who  are  sighing  for  my 
fairy  belle.  Now,  dear  child,  farewell :  no  imprudence,  re- 
member. By-the-by,  speaking  of  admirers,  reminds  me  of 
a  forlorn — that  is,  sad-looking — young  fellow,  who  accosted 
me  a  few  days  ago  as  I  was  leaving  this  house,  to  inquire 
about  your  Health.  He  looked  very  much  as  if  the  same 
inquiry  might  be  made  of  himself.  In  fact,  I  did  ask  him 
if  he  was  ill.  Some  fit  subject  for  the  lunatic  asylum ;  and 
still,  a  very  handsome  fellow,  too — large,  black  eyes,  so 
bright  and  piercing,  dark  hair,  beautiful  features ;  but  such 
a  look  of  agony !  The  vision  pursued  me  for  several  hours. 
I  wonder  who  it  could  have  been  ?" 

"Don't  know,"  said  Helen,  with  indifference.  But  a 
pang  shot  across  her  mind.  "  Good-morning,  doctor,"  she 
added,  as  the  old  physician  took  his  leave. 

No — she  could  bear  it  no  longer.  She  must  reveal  that 
terrible  secret  to  some  sympathizing  ear ;  and  to  whom  ? 
To  her  mother  ?  No ;  she  might  be  distressed.  Besides, 
thought  the  young  girl,  she  is  not  the  proper  person — she 
is  too  old.  Alas !  that  such  a  conclusion  should  proceed 


56  HELEN  LEESON: 

from  the  lips,  from  the  heart,  of  a  child,  regarding  a  lov- 
ing, kind,  sensible  mother !  But  that  very  mother,  not- 
withstanding her  many  qualities,  was  responsible  for  the 
want  of  confidence  her  daughter  felt  in  her.  This  is  one 
of  the  defective  traits  in  modern  education ;  and  the  great 
independence  which  is  universally  conceded  to  our  young 
people,  makes  this  sad  consequence  still  more  glaring  here 
than  elsewhere.  Daughters  and  sons  will  smile  at  the  old- 
fashioned  notion  of  allowing  parents  to  be  wiser,  better 
judges  of  their  welfare  than  their  young,  inexperienced 
selves.  Scarcely  have  age  and  physical  strength  loosened 
the  link  of  dependence  which  binds  them  to  a  parent's  pro- 
tection, than  they  are  most  anxious  to  sever  the  tie ;  and 
what  is  the  consequence  ?  The  mother's  superior  know- 
ledge and  judgment  become  totally  unavailing  to  save  her 
child  from  the  many  evil  influences  ever  ready  to  blight  the 
young  mind. 

Might  not  this  sad  result  be  avoided  by  accustoming  our 
children,  from  their  earliest  infancy,  to  look  upon  us  as  the 
support,  the  staff  of  their  tottering  reason  ?  and  with  love 
and  indulgence  for  their  little  errors,  might  not  this  be  ob- 
tained? The  beneficial  effects  of  such  an  intercourse  of 
affection  and  good  example  are  evident ;  and  the  coming 
generation  would  thus  profit  by  the  experience  of  the  pre- 
ceding one. 

Reader,  you  may  object  to  our  detaining  you  thus  for  a 
few  moments  in  the  course  of  our  narrative ;  but  we  have 
ever  considered  that  novels  being  the  most  attractive,  (that 
portion  of  literary  productions  most  generally  read,)  a  great 
many  wholesome  truths  may  thus  be  conveyed  to  the  mass 
of  social  humanity  in  a  manner  which  makes  them  less  un- 
welcome, and  the  benignant  effects  are  the  same.  May  every 
Dcvel- writer  be  fortunate  enough  to  produce  such  a  result! 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  57 

"Marvellous!  incomprehensible!"  exclaimed  Laura,  aa 
she  was  driving  up  the  Fifth  Avenue  with  Helen,  who  had 
just  related  her  extraordinary  adventures  of  the  preceding 
week.  "But  how  could  you  make  up  your  mind  to  it? 
Why  did  you  not  scream  ?" 

"  Scream !  When  I  was  there  alone,  entirely  unpro- 
tected, of  what  use  would  it  have  been  ?  And  besides,  I 
was  so  terrified,  so  anxious  to  get  out  of  that  house,  that 
I  would  have  consented  to  any  thing." 

"Why  did  you  not  appeal  to  the  minister  ?"  asked  Laura. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  did  not  suppose  he  was  a  real 
minister ;  and,  in  fact,  I  thought  that,  at  all  events,  the 
marriage  would  not  be  legal." 

"  It  is  not,  certainly ;  but  if  it  was  known,  it  would  create 
a  terrible  scandal.  And  where  are  those  people  to  be 
found?" 

"  The  young  man  told  me  he  knew  Robert,  and  would  be 
answerable  to  him  for  his  conduct.  Oh,  Laura  !  no  worda 
can  express  the  bitterness,  the  feeling  of  hatred,  1  bear 
those  two  men.  The  father  is  a  villain,  and  the  son  a 
coward  !"  Helen's  eyes  flashed  with  anger. 

"What  kind  of  a  looking  man  was  he  ?"  asked  Laura. 

"  Indeed,  I  scarcely  know ;  and  still,  I  am  sure  I  never 
can  forget  his  face,  either.  And  just  as  fate  was  smiling 
upon  me ;  just  as  so  fair  a  prospect  was  before  me !"  added 
the  young  girl,  bursting  into  tears.  "  Oh,  Laura  !  I  am  so 
wretched !" 

"Yes,  dearest,  and  so  am  I ;  and  great  would  be  the  an- 
guish of  your  parents  if  they  knew  this,  although  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  clearing  up  the  whole  affair  with 
the  aid  of  the  police.  But  what  a  painful,  disgraceful 
matter  to  be  implicated  in  !" 

"I  have  thought  it  all  over,"  sobbed  Helen,  "and  my 


58  HELEN  LEESON: 

mind  is  made  up  on  the  subject.  I  had  to  confide  my 
troubles  to  you,  because  my  heart  .was  bursting ;  but  no 
Other  human  being  shall  ever  know  this  awful  secret." 

"Perhaps,"  interposed  Laura,  "when  Robert  returns,  he 
may  help  us  to  find  a  clue  to  this  mystery." 

"No,  no!  Robert  is  young  and  thoughtless.  He 
would  hunt  out  the  fellow,  and  blow  his  brains  out.  My 
husband  that  man  !  Oh,  Laura,  Laura  !" 

"  Pray,  dearest,  pray.  No  earthly  comfort  can  soothe 
the  aching  soul.  In  the  inscrutable  decrees  of  Providence, 
no  voice  save  that  of  the  Divine  Consoler  can  bring  relief; 
and  this  is  mysterious,  indeed.  Poor,  dear  one !"  she 
added,  kissing  her  cousin. 

"And  only  think  of  my  leaving  my  wreath  of  golden 
grapes.  I  had  to  tell  a  fib  about  it  to  Sophie,  who  sent  to 
aunt's  and  had  the  house  in  an  uproar,  because  I  said  I 
had  left  it  there !  I  cannot  bear  the  idea  of  there  being  a 
trace  of  my  presence  in  that  awful  place !" 

"  Could  you  not  find  the  house  ?" 

"  Impossible !  It  was  as  dark  as  Erebus,  and  I  so 
frightened  that  I  was  almost  unconscious  of  what  was 
going  on." 

"But,"  interposed  the  countess,  "how  do  you  account 
for  that  stranger's  driving  your  father's  carriage  ?" 

"  Well,  I  cannot,  except  that  I  think  Matthew  was  intoxi- 
cated, (probably  the  other  man  contributed  to  it;)  and  while 
old  Matthew  was  tottering  home,  that  agent  of  the  evil 
spirit  Avas  driving  me  off  to  destruction  in  our  own  carriage. 
Strange !  is  it  not  ?  But,  Laura,  could  that  man  have  spoken 
the  truth  ?  could  my  father  have  been  guilty  of  that  dis- 
graceful action  ?  Oh  !  the  thought  makes  my  brain  reel ! 
Do  you  believe  it,  Laura?" 

"  I  hope  not — trust  not,"  said  the  young  countess,  who 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  59 

remembered  having  heard  it  whispered  once  by  her  hus- 
band, that  Mr.  Leeson's  reputation  was  not  without  a 
blemish.  "But,  darling,"  she  added,  "let  us  drop  the 
subject  now,  to  resume  it  whenever  it  will  be  a  relief  to 
you  to  communicate  your  thoughts  to  a  sister's  sympathizing 
ear.  Let  us  talk  over  the  gayeties  of  the  coming  week. 
You  know  your  aunt  (thanks  to  Lord  Devere's  indispo- 
sition!) has  been  delighted  to  put  off  her  dinner-party  to 
next  Thursday,  and  you  will  be  there,  of  course." 

"What  is  all  that  to  me,  now?"  sighed  Helen;  "arid 
what  will  Sir  Archibald  think  of  the  change  in  my 
manner?" 

"  Now  come,  Elly,  you  do  not  care  for  that  young,  in- 
significant shoot  of  English  nobility?" 

"  Well,  not  exactly ;  but  he  is  a  nice  sort  of  a  person, 
and  I  should  have  fancied  being  Lady  Courtnay.  Poor 
aunt !  it  would  break  her  heart,  if  she  knew  all  this !" 

"A  nice  sort  of  a  person  !"  repeated  Laura.  "Is  that 
the  kind  of  husband  for  Helen  Leeson  ?  I  would  rather 
never  marry  than  put  up  with  such  a  lot.  Oh !  do  not 
mourn  over  that  fallen  hope,  dearest !  Sir  Archibald  is  not 
the  person  I  regret  to  lose  in  this  sad  business." 

"  I  know  who  you  mean ;  but  father  never  would  give 
his  consent." 

"The  more  wrong  he,"  responded  the  countess,  as  they 
stopped  at  Helen's  door. 

"And  Sir  Archibald  will  marry  Cora  Dalton — only 
think,  Laura!"  said  the  dejected  girl,  as  she  kissed  her 
cousin ;  and  leaning  on  Jackson's  arm,  she  entered  the  house. 

Laura  drove  home. 

Again  we  say,  Poor  humanity  !  how  frail  and  blind  thou 
art  ! 


60  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BEING  entirely  well,  Helen  could  no  longer  refuse  the 
ttrony  invitations  which  she  received,  nor  could  she  resist 
the  urgent  entreaties  of  her  aunt,  who  was  still  in  pursuit 
of  her  favourite  plan.  Mrs.  Leeson  objected,  remon- 
strated, but,  as  usual,  had  to  give  up  to  the  arguments  of  her 
sister-in-law  and  to  the  imperious  orders  of  her  husband. 
Poor  Mrs.  Leeson  !  There  are  many  domestic  victims  in 
the  same  style,  whose  silent  martyrdom  could  well  claim  a 
crown  from  the  Divine  Judge  of  our  most  secret  thoughts. 
Theirs  will  be  a  glorious  reward,  for  they  have  borne 
the  cross  meekly  and  in  silence ;  but  great  will  be  the  ac- 
count which  the  author  of  their  agony  will  have  to  render  ! 

The  dinner-party  at  Grantly  Hall  was  magnificent ;  a 
thousand  delicacies  were  produced  to  tempt  the  guests,  and 
lights  and  flowers  rendered  them  tenfold  more  delicious. 
A  band  of  music,  concealed  in  the  conservatory,  sent  forth 
melodious  sounds,  which  only  rendered  the  conversation 
more  exciting.  Helen  sat,  par  hasardj  near  Sir  Archi- 
bald, whose  first  experience  of  Helen's  loquacity  having 
been  most  agreeable  to  his  dormant  powers,  waited  quietly 
until  his  fair  neighbour  should  resume  her  easy  task  of 
entertaining  him.  But  he  was  doomed  to  disappointment. 
With  the  exception  of  a  few  commonplace  remarks,  Miss 
Leeson  was  unusually  silent ;  and,  in  fact,  had  it  not  been 
for  Harry  Marvell,  who  sat  on  the  other  side,  the  change 
in  her  manner  had  been  perceptible  to  every  one. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         61 

Marvell  was  one  of  those  invaluable  members  of  society 
whom  the  genius  of  sociability  has  undoubtedly  brought 
forth,  as  a  connecting  tie  between  the  many  broken  links 
of  its  votaries.  To  say  the  truth,  his  whole  powers  were 
bent  upon  that  one  object.  He  was  a  business  man  merely 
because  he  could  not  help  it,  and  a  few  essential  hours 
were  all  he  devoted  to  it.  The  rest  of  his  life  belonged  to 
his  friends,  as  he  styled  them  ;.not  that  he  was  fool  enough 
to  think  them  such,  but  the  word  sounded  well  to  his  fas- 
tidious ears,  and  Harry  was  not  a  man  to  reject  the  slight- 
est trifle  which  could  give  him  even  a  pleasurable  feeling. 
He  was  right  there.  In  fact,  it  is  not  only  true  charity, 
but  the  very  best  policy,  to  take  a  pleasant  view  of  every 
thing  in  this  deceptive  world;  and  trying  to  believe  that 
we  have  friends,  often  induces  us  to  be  friendly  to  others. 
Harry  Marvell  saw  that  Helen  was  out  of  sorts ;  and  not 
being  an  aspirer  to  Miss  Leeson's  hand,  he  felt  no  jea- 
lousy at  her  admiration  for  the  young  Englishman,  and  en- 
deavoured to  come  to  her  assistance. 

"  Has  Sir  Archibald  seen  any  of  our  fine  paintings  at 
the  Art  Union?"  interposed  Marvell,  just  in  time  to  rouse 
the  young  nobleman,  who  was  falling  into  a  dose. 

This  being  addressed  to  Helen,  she  immediately  caught 
at  the  idea. 

"I  don't  know;  have  you,  Sir  Archibald?  There  are 
some  beautiful  things." 

"Yes,  I  was  there  once;  but  I  am  no  judge  of  paint- 
ings. Uncle  said  they  could  not  be  good,  as  there  are  no 
artists  in  this  country;  but  the  frames  are  very  elegant." 

Helen  smiled,  and  thought  of  Laura. 

"  Have  you  many  engagements  for  this  week,  Miss  Lee- 
son  ?"  inquired  Marvell.  "  We  are  to  have  a  select  party 


62  HELEN  LEESON: 

at  the  Elvingtons — I  understand  a  philopoena  soiree,  given 
to  Miss  Dalton.  By-thc-by,  Sir  Archibald,  have  you  that 
pretty  little  custom  in  England?" 

"  What  ?"  asked  the  young  man. 

Helen  explained  the  matter,  and  then  went  on  to  speak 
of  valentines  and  various  other  little  English  notions,  with 
which  the  gentleman  seemed  quite  familiar. 

Marvell  turned  his  attention  in  another  quarter.  He 
cast  a  side  glance  at  Mac  Tavish,  who  was  taking  advan- 
tage of  his  vicinity  to  Emma  Grantly. 

"Silly  fellow!"  thought  Harry,  "that  flashy  vest  and 
blue  cravat  will  be  the  death  of  him  ;  and  with  red  whis- 
kers, too  !  Stupid  Scotchman  !"  Marvell  was  well  aware 
of  the  fact,  which  must  have  originated  in  society,  that 
"from  little  causes  great  events  arise."  Let  us,  however, 
render  our  sensible  friend  Emma  the  justice  to  say,  that 
she  was  not  one  of  those  who  could  be  influenced  by  a 
flashy  vest  and  a  blue  cravat. 

After  dinner,  the  ladies  adjourned  to  the  drawing-room, 
and  while  Mr.  Leeson,  (who  had  made  a  desperate  effort, 
in  the  hope  of  effecting  his  sister's  cherished  dream,)  Lord 
Devere,  and  several  gentlemen  remained  at  table,  drinking 
and  talking  politics,  Mac  Tavish  requested  Marvell  to 
show  him  the  conservatory,  to  which,  with  his  usual  good 
grace,  he  acceded. 

"Now,  what  is  the  matter,  Mac,  my  boy  ?"  asked  Harry. 
"  I  see  '  there  is  something  rotten  in  the  state  of  Denmark,' 
as  the  old  saying  goes." 

"  Decayed,  my  dear  fellow — quite  dead,"  sighed  the 
young  Scotchman.  "  Here  I  have  been,  like  Diogenes,  for 
some  time  past  in  search  of  a  sensible  woman ;  and  just  as 
fate  befriends  me,  ill-luck  steps  in  and  mars  all  my  pros- 
pects." 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  63 

"  How  so?"  asked  Marvell,  unable  to  refrain  from  smil 
ing  at  the  doleful  expression  of  his  friend's  countenance. 
"I  thought  you  were  doing  wonders  in  that  quarter." 

"  Well,  I  thought  so  too.  I  strained  every  nerve  to  make 
myself  agreeable,  and  was  sure  I  had  succeeded  ;  but  at  the 
first  hint  at  something  serious,  the  lady  gave  me  such  an 
answer,  that  I  cannot  think  of  going  on  with  my  suit.  By 
George  !  it  vexes  me  beyond  expression.  Do  you  think  there 
is  any  one  else  in  the  way  ?"  added  Mac  Tavish,  with  an 
inquiring  look. 

"  Can't  tell  you,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Harry ;  "  dont 
know.  Miss  Emma  is  hard  to  please,  and,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  you  are  one  of  the  few  who  have  been  fortunate 
enough  to  interest  her.  But  I  would  not  give  up  all 
hopes :  perseverance  is  one  of  Cupid's  most  essential  aux- 
iliaries." 

"  Nonsense  !  Do  you  think  me  fool  enough  to  hang  about 
a  woman,  when  she  has  made  me  understand  plainly  that 
I  had  nothing  to  expect?"  answered  the  young  man. 

"  Well,  then,  we  will  try  some  other  belle.  You  are  not 
particular  about  choosing  a  wife  in  the  tip-top  fashion,  are 
you  ?" 

"  No,  not  exactly,  although  I  must  say  that  I  have  a 
smattering  of  aristocracy  about  me :  my  mother  was  a 
Mac  Gregor." 

"I  think  I  know  a  fair  lady  who  will  suit  you  exactly," 
replied  Marvell ;  "  but  you  must  wait  awhile,  before  I  intro- 
duce you  to  her,  my  engagements  are  so  numerous  just 
now.  But,"  he  added,  "let  me  give  you  a  salutary  piece 
of  advice,  my  dear  fellow  :  never  wear  that  red  vest  again — 
it  is  not  becoming,  indeed." 

"Why?"  responded  Mac  Tavish.     "It  cost  me  a  small 

fortune." 

6* 


64  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Sorry,"  laughed  Marvell ;  "  but  it  is  a  wretched  in- 
vestment. Pretty  good  pun ;  hey,  Mac  ?" 

"  The  young  Scotchman  was  too  well  bred  an  d  amiable 
not  to  take  a  joke — even  at  the  expense  of  his  good  taste. 
He  laughed  heartily,  and  the  friends  returned  to  the  draw- 
ing-room. 

The  gentlemen  had  left  the  table,  and  an  animated  conver- 
sation was  going  on. 

"  You  have  not  yet  seen  all  the  beauties  of  our  coun- 
try, my  lord  ?"  said  Emma  to  Lord  Devere,  who  sat  near 
her. 

"  My  knowledge  of  America  and  its  inhabitants  is  very 
limited  as  yet,  but  what  I  have  already  seen  of  them  has 
given  me  a  strong  desire  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
both,"  answered  his  lordship,  with  that  ease  and  refine- 
ment of  manner  which  betrayed  good  breeding.  Lord 
Devere  was  a  perfect  gentleman,  highly  educated  and  in- 
tellectual— a  real  type  of  an  English  nobleman ;  and  as 
Emma  listened  to  his  fluent  and  instructive  conversation, 
she  thought,  how  much  more  proud  would  she  be  of  his 
lordship's  notice,  even  with  the  incumbrance  of  his  sixty 
years  and  gray  hairs,  than  of  the  admiration  of  Sir  Archi- 
bald, with  his  rosy  cheeks  and  empty  brain ! 

Cora  Dalton,  who  was  one  of  the  guests,  like  a  skilful 
mariner  watched  the  change  in  Helen's  manner  toward 
the  young  nobleman ;  she  saw,  also,  that  Mac  Tavish  and 
Emma  were  much  less  together  than  of  late ;  and  as  no  flirt 
can  have  too  many  strings  to  her  bow,  she  resolved  to  la;* 
snares  for  both  prizes,  little  dreaming  that  the  poor  fellot ' 
rejected  by  Miss  Grantly  was  only  to  be  captivated  by  ?\ 
sensible  woman. 

The  ladies  were  called  upon  for  a  little  music.  Emmj 
was  a  beautiful  player,  and  Helen's  voice  genx  ally  created 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.          b5 

a  great  sensation;  but  that  evening  she  could  not  sing. 
Consequently,  Miss  Dalton's  performance  was  greatly  ad- 
mired, and  Sir  Archibald  declared  that  it  was  "  fine — very 
fine !" 

At  last  the  wished-for  hour  for  retiring  came  around  ; 
and  it  was  a  relief  to  poor  Helen  to  leave  the  stage  where 
she  had  played  her  constrained  part  in  a  manner  so  unsa 
tisfactory  to  herself,  so  distressing  to  her  aunt. 


66  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"BoGET,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson,  as  she  stepped  into  the 
sewing-room  one  morning  after  breakfast,  "is  Robert's 
apartment  quite  ready?  Have  the  new  curtains  been  put 
up?  the  arm-chair  embroidered  by  my  sister  placed  near 
the  bed?  You  know  we  expect  the  dear  boy  to-day  or  to- 
morrow," added  the  delighted  mother. 

"I  spent  the  whole  of  yesterday  arranging  Mr.  Robert's 
room,  ma'am,"  answered  the  good  woman  ;  "  and  if  he 
don't  find  it  to  his  taste,  he  has  become  wonderfully  hard 
to  please." 

"  That  is  what  I  fear,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson.  "  You  know, 
Robert  is  a  little  wild,  Boget :  if  we  do  not  make  his 
home  agreeable,  he  will  be  running  out  night  after  night, 
as  he  used  to,  and  break  my  poor  heart,"  she  added,  with 
sadness. 

"  Oh,  ma'am  !  our  boy  has  grown  older  and  wiser,  I 
trust.  Well,  if  we  can't  manage  him,  we  will  send  him 
over  to  a  pretty  lady,  who  has  some  influence  over  him," 
said  the  seamstress,  who  was  no  stranger  to  Robert's  un- 
bounded admiration  for  his  cousin. 

While  this  little  domestic  confab  was  going  on  between 
the  kind  mistress  and  the  faithful  servant,  Helen  sat  read 
ing  to  Anna,  who  was  laid  up  with  neuralgic  pains  in  her 
limbs.  Six  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the  eventful  proceed- 
ings which  we  have  related  had  occurred,  and  many  had 
been  the  bitter  moments  of  anguish  which  Helen  had  suf- 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  67 

fered.  Unable  to  give  her  aunt  a  plausible  excuse  for 
refusing  to  accompany  her,  she  was  out  night  after  night, 
dancing  the  Avhole  evening,  and  straining  all  her  physical 
strength  to  drive  the  dreadful  vision  from  her  mind ;  but, 
alas  !  with  very  little  success.  She  was  still  the  belle  of 
the  season,  the  most  courted,  the  most  admired — even  by 
the  young  Englishman,  who  waited  but  a  favourable  oppor- 
tunity to  offer  himself.  This,  however,  fortunately  for 
Helen,  was  put  off  to  an  indefinite  period;  for  Lord  De- 
vere,  being  in  ill  health,  determined  to  spend  the  remainder 
of  the  winter  in  Cuba ;  and  both  gentlemen  left  New  York 
very  unexpectedly. 

This  departure  was  an  immense  relief  to  the  young  girl, 
who  hoped  that  thn.e  might  bring  a  change  in  her  fate, 
which  she  scarcely  dared  to  acknowledge  to  herself.  As 
she  had  determined  never  to  divulge  the  fatal  secret,  she 
could  not  sever  the  tie  which  bound  her  to  that  man,  as 
she  ever  styled  him  when  the  subject  was  mentioned  to 
Laura.  What  change,  then,  could  occur  to  better  Helen's 
prospects — to  allow  her  to  realize  her  fondest  dream — to 
become  Lady  Courtnay?  Death  alone!  And  bitter  as 
was  the  enmity  she  entertained  toward  the  author  of  her 
misery,  she  scarcely  dared  reflect  a  moment  upon  such  a 
result.  As  Laura  had  said,  prayer  was  the  only  soother 
to  her  aching  heart ;  gradually  she  became  partially  recon- 
ciled to  the  divine  decree,  and  endeavoured  to  seek  in 
study  and  intellectual  pursuits  an  enjoyment  which  society 
no  longer  afforded  her. 

"  Thank  you,  dearest !"  said  Anna,  as  she  kissed  the 
hand  which  was  clasped  in  hers.  "  This  sweet  reading  has 
done  me  good ;  and  had  I  not  neglected  an  imperative 
duty  to-day,  I  should  be  quite  satisfied  with  my  prospects 
for  the  afternoon." 


68  HELEN  LEESON: 

"What  duty  do  you  allude  to,  darling?"  said  her  sister. 
"Is  it  any  thing  I  can  do  for  you?" 

"  Well,  yes,  you  might ;  but  then  it  would  annoy  you, 
I  am  afraid  :  you  are  not  accustomed  to  such  close  contact 
with  the  sufferings  of  this  world  as  I  am,"  said  Anna, 
gently. 

"  It  is  high  time  I  should  be,  then.  Now  tell  me,  Puss, 
•what  you  would  desire  me  to  do  for  you.  To  go  and  see 
some  of  your  pensioners?"  added  Helen,  smiling. 

"Yes,"  said  Anna,  "a  poor  old  woman  whom  I  visit 
every  Thursday ;  she  always  expects  me,  and  seems  so  de- 
lighted when  I  go  there ;  she  lives  a  few  squares  from 
here,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Sixth  Avenue.  Sophie 
knows — she  has  been  there." 

"  I  will  go  at  once,"  said  Helen,  as  she  rang  the  bell, 
and  bid  the  maid  bring  her  bonnet  and  cloak. 

"  You  will  find  a  basket  in  the  closet,  Elly,  which  I  pre- 
pared for  old  Jane  ;  Sophie  can  carry  it.  Tell  her  ,why  I 
did  not  go  myself,  and  that  Doctor  Clifford  thinks  camphor- 
ated oil  would  do  her  rheumatism  a  great  deal  of  good," 
said  Anna. 

"  I  will  try  to  remember  all  that,"  answered  Helen,  as 
she  kissed  her  sister ;  and  stopping  a  moment  to  tell  Mrs. 
Leeson  that  Anna  was  alone,  she  started  on  her  mission  of 
charity. 

The  old  woman  in  whom  the  lame  girl  took  such  an  in- 
terest lived  in  a  modest,  but  neat-looking  house  in  Fifteenth 
Street,  near  the  North  River ;  and  as  Helen  took  her  silent 
way,  followed  by  Sophie,  she  noticed  the  many  forlorn, 
miserable  dwellings  which  abound  in  that  part  of  the  city, 
and  through  which  the  kind  child  had  gone  in  search  of  a 
suffering  one  to  comfort  and  relieve. 

"Are  you  Jane  Kelly?"  inquired  Helen,  as  she  entered 


A   TEEP   AT  NEW    YOK  K    SOCIETY.  69 

the  little  room,  which  seemed  to  contain  every  necessary 
of  life,  but  not  one  luxury.  This  was  addressed  to  a  very 
elderly  person,  who  sat  in  a  wooden  arm-chair,  nicely 
cushioned  by  Anna's  judicious  charity. 

"  I  am,  ma'am,"  replied  the  old  Avoman. 

"My  sister,  Miss  Leeson,"  added  Helen,  "has  requested 
me  to  visit  you  to-day.  She  is  indisposed,  and  unable  to 
come  herself.  Here  are  some  provisions  which  she  sends 
you."  So  saying,  she  took  the  chair  which  was  offered  by 
a  girl  of  fourteen,  who  seemed  to  be  waiting  upon  Anna's 
protege. 

"  Is  the  dear  young  lady  ill  ?  I  hope  she  will  soon  get 
well,  for  I  could  not  live  long  without  her  sweet  visits.  I 
have  but  two  joys  in  this  world,"  continued  old  Jane — 
"Miss  Anna's  good  care,  and  the  blessing  of  seeing  my 
young  master  now  and  then." 

"  Have  you  no  one  on  whom  you  can  depend  ?"  said 
Helen,  who  felt  it  her  duty  to  entertain  the  afflicted  one, 
so  deprived  of  earthly  treasures. 

"Yes,"  she  answered;  "my  young  master  supports  me — 
poor,  dear  boy !  I  lived  with  his  mother  when  he  was  born, 
and  better,  kinder  people  than  his  parents  never  existed. 
They  were  rich,  very  rich,  then ;  but  trouble  came  after- 
ward, and  pursued  them  for  many  years.  They  were  so 
poor,  that  my  mistress  and  I  were  obliged  to  do  all  the 
work.  She  was  delicate,  and  it  broke  her  down  completely. 
At  last  she  died.  Oh  !  that  was  a  sad  day.  I  thought  my 
poor  master  and  my  dear  boy  would  have  gone  crazy.  And 
BO  poor,  that  they  had  to  sell  the  silver  to  pay  for  her 
funeral.  I  never  shall  forget  the  cold,  dismal  weather 
when  they  carried  her  away,  and  the  wretched  man  followed 
her  to  the  grave  I"  The  old  woman  wept  bitterly;  Helen's 
eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 


70  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Go  on !"  she  said. 

"Well,  I  stayed  with  master  for  some  time — as  long  aa 
I  could.  My  health  was  very  bad,  but  I  hated  to  leave  my 
boy,  who  was  the  best  child  in  the  world.  Many  an  even- 
ing has  he  spent  reading  to  me  when  I  was  losing  my  sight, 
and  even  now  he  comes  to  see  me  very  often.  We  have 
quite  a  nice  place  here;  have  we  not?  This  room  is  very 
comfortable ;  and  then  there  is  a  little  closet,  with  a  win- 
dow on  that  side,  where  Peggy  keeps  her  flowers.  Show 
your  roses  to  the  lady,  Peggy ;  you  know  Miss  Anna  always 
goes  in  to  see  them." 

Astonished  at  the  truly  satisfied  spirit  of  the  poor  woman, 
and  anxious  to  gratify  her,  Helen  rose  and  went  into  the 
adjoining  room. 

At  that  moment  the  bell  rang ;  and  leaving  the  visitor  to 
examine  the  flowers,  Peggy  ran  to  open  the  door,  exclaim- 
ing, "  It  is  Mr.  Walter,  grandmother  !" 

Helen  started,  and  stood  motionless,  not  losing  one  word 
of  the  conversation.  It  was  lie — there,  near  her ;  she  could 
not  mistake  the  voice  which  years  would  not  obliterate  from 
her  memory ! 

"Well,  Jany!  how  are  you?"  said  the  young  man. 
"  Here  is  your  money  :  had  you  enough  last  month  ?  You 
must  not  want  any  thing,  you  know ;  I  won't  hear  to  that." 

"  Lors !  Mr.  Walter,  I  am  quite  comfortable.  But  won't 
you  take  a  seat?  you  always  sit  a  while." 

"Not  to-day,  Jany.  I  have  business  to  attend  to,  and 
1  came  up  from  the  office  to  bring  you  your  money." 

"You  have  been  sick,  my  son,"  said  the  old  woman, 
anxiously;  "you  look  very  badly,  now  I  have  my  spec- 
tacles on." 

"I  have  had  trouble,"  sighed  the  young  man — "the 
worst  kind  of  trouble.  Pray  for  me;  you  know  mother 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YOKK  SOCIETY.          71 

made  you  promise  you  would.  I  have  prayed,"  he  added, 
"  but  the  sorrow  is  still  here — in  this  poor,  broken  heart. 
Oh !  Jany,  I  am  wretched !"  For  an  instant  the  voice  fal 
tered.  "No  matter,"  he  added;  "it  will  soon  be  over,  I 
trust.  I  am  arranging  my  business  for  a  trip  to  Europe, 
in  a  few  months ;  but  I  will  leave  your  income  in  safe 
hands.  Now,  good-by ;  I'll  come  soon  again;"  and  the 
door  closed,  and  all  was  silent. 

Words  cannot  express  Helen's  sensations,  as  she  listened 
to  that  shor*  conversation.  Did  not  a  feeling  of  pity  tem- 
per the  bitterness  of  her  hatred  toward  Walter?  No! 
Pride  was  yet  unconquered,  and  no  dawn  of  mercy  could 
reach  her  aeart. 

She  rr  turned  to  the  old  woman,  nervous  and  agitated. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  did  not  come  in  to  see  my  young  mas- 
ter ;  be  is  so  good,  so  kind-hearted !  But  he  said  he  was 
wrenched ;  what  can  ail  him  ?"  added  old  Jane,  little  dream- 
ing that  the  cause  of  his  agony  stood  there  before  her. 

"Have  you  any  message  for  my  sister,  Mrs.  Kelly?" 
asked  Helen. 

"  My  best  respects  and  thanks,  and  hope  she  will  soon 
get  well.  Peggy,  open  the  door  for  the  young  lady. 
Thank  you  for  your  kind  visit,  Miss  Leeson,  but  I  am  right 
sorry  you  did  not  see  my  boy." 

Helen  hurried  down  stairs  with  Sophie,  who  could  not 
account  for  the  excited  manner  of  her  young  mistress.  As 
they  were  leaving  the  house,  they  heard  the  extras ;  and  us 
Helen  reached  her  father's  door,  a  carriage  drove  up,  a 
loved  face  peeped  out,  and  in  two  minutes  more  the  young 
girl  entered  the  drawing-room  with  Robert,  who  had  folded 
her  to  his  bosom. 

Great  was  the  joy  in  the  family  that  night.  Aunt  Seraph 
and  Laura  were  there;  Herman  Smith,  who  had  come  up 

7 


72  HELEN  LEESON: 

with  Robert,  stayed  to  dimmer,  of  course.  In  the  even- 
ing,  the  parlour  door  was  gently  opened,  and  a  silvery  little 
voice  inquired — 

"May  I  offer  my  neighbourly  welcome  to  the  traveller?" 

"Alice  Irving!"  exclaimed  Robert,  as  he  rose  and 
offered  both  hands  to  the  friendly  shake  of  the  little 
Quakeress. 

Even  Mr.  Leeson's  stiff  features  seemed  to  yield  to  the 
blessed  influence  of  affection;  he  spent  the  evening  at 
home,  and  only  once  showed  a  little  irritation  at  the  tea 
being  served  up  at  the  wrong  moment,  just  as  his  son  was 
entertaining  the  family  by  a  graphic  description  of  his 
travels.  We  have  said  that  Robert's  education  had  been 
greatly  neglected,  but  he  was  naturally  witty,  and  no  one 
could  tell  a  better  story  than  he. 

"How  did  you  manage  to  get  along  so  well  without 
speaking  French  or  German?"  asked  Anna,  who  had  been 
carried  down  and  lay  on  the  sofa,  a  most  delighted  listener. 

"  Well,  I  had  to  contrive ;  for  instance,  in  Germany,  I 
wanted  to  start  at  a  certain  hour  by  the  cars,  and  could 
not  make  the  driver  understand  me.  I  had  but  a  few  mo- 
ments to  reach  the  depot;  at  last,  pushed  to  my  wit's 
ends,  I  imitated  the  sound  of  steam  and  the  steam-whistle ; 
the  fellow  understood  me,  and  bore  me  along  like  light- 
ning, just  in  time  to  take  my  seat  in  the  cars,  which  were 
starting." 

"That  was  smart!"  said  Alice,  laughing.  "Nice  fun 
this,  being  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  such  expedients  to 
travel  through  Europe.  I  suppose  you  enjoyed  Paris  very 
much;  did  you  not?" 

"Beyond  description.  There  is  no  place  like  it  in  this 
wide  world ;  one  can  live  more  independently,  more  accord- 
ing to  one's  means  there,  than  anywhere  else,  and  without 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  73 

fearing  the  criticism  or  notice  of  an  earthly  being.  Such 
a  treat !" 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  responded  Alice;  "I  think  a 
little  gossip  now  and  then  very  amusing.  But  Aunt 
Martha  always  complains  of  it;  she  says,  in  New  York, 
people  are  more  busy  with  the  affairs  of  their  neighbours 
than  with  their  own." 

"You  might  suggest  her  going  to  live  in  Paris,"  said 
Herman,  laughing. 

"That  is  an  excellent  notion,  to  which,  however,  there 
would  be  a  great  objection.  Aunt  Martha  never  could 
make  up  her  mind  to  cross  the  ocean ;  she  has  a  perfect 
dread  of  water,  and  examines  her  will  every  time  she  goes 
to  Brooklyn." 

"Did  you  see  many  fine  paintings  abroad,  Robert?" 
asked  Miss  Marsy. 

"  A  great  many ;  I  visited  all  the  galleries  in  Paris.  But 
the  finest  I  saw  were  in  Rome  and  Naples." 

"You  must  have  been  delighted  with  the  scenery  in 
Switzerland,"  added  Aunt  Seraph,  noticing  the  painful 
change  which  the  mention  of  Italy  had  produced  on  Laura's 
countenance. 

"I  could  not  possibly  describe  it,"  answered  the  young 
man.  "  How  you  would  all  enjoy  it !  Even  mother,  who  is 
not  fond  of  locomotion,  would  take  great  pleasure  in  a  trip 
to  Europe." 

"  I  doubt  it,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson.  "  But  I  hope 
Helen  and  Laura  will  go  next  fall.  Seraphina,"  she  added, 
turning  to  her  sister,  "you  will  have  to  matronize  them." 

"Well,  I  am  rather  old  for  such  expeditions,  but  wher- 
ever these  children  go,  I  am  willing  to  be  one  of  them," 
said  the  kind  friend. 

"Now  that  you  have  cross-questioned  me,  let  us  know 


74  HELEN  LEESON: 

what  is  going  on  here.  Any  beaux  in  the  way,  Helen  ?" 
asked  Robert. 

The  young  girl,  still  under  the  effects  of  the  painful 
impressions  of  the  morning,  had  been  very  silent  during 
that  cosy  family-meeting.  Thus  appealed  to,  however,  she 
blushed  and  said,  "No,  indeed." 

"Don't  believe  her,"  cried  Alice  Irving. 

"She  has  made  a  most  brilliant  conquest;  and  were  it 
not  for  Lord  Devere's  gout,  you  would  have  found  this  lady 
engaged  to  Sir  Archibald  Courtnay." 

"Ah !  well,  that  is  fine;  but  what  sort  of  a  person  is  this 
English  nobleman,"  asked  Robert.  "I  am  not  over  partial 
to  John  Bull." 

"A  very  insignificant  'sort  of  a  person,"  said  Laura, 
who  felt  that  her  cousin  needed  an  auxiliary. 

"Not  half  as  agreeable  as  his  old  gouty  uncle." 

"You  are  fastidious,  Laura,"  said  Mr.  Leeson.  "Helen 
may  not  thank  you  for  that  opinion,  one  of  these  days." 

"What!  is  it  really  a  serious  affair?"  inquired  Robert. 
"Is  it  true,  Elly?  come,  tell  me  about  it." 

"I  cannot  marry  Sir  Archibald,"  she  replied,  with  a  sigh. 

"We  will  find  a  nice  Yankee  for  you,  Elly,"  said  Alice. 
"I  would  not  have  an  Englishman." 

"Too  green,  Miss  Alice,"  said  Mr.  Grantly,  who  was  en- 
tering the  parlour,  and  had  overheard  the  remark.  Robert. 
my  boy,  welcome  home!"  he  added,  shaking  hands  with  his 
nephew. 

"  How  are  you,  sir  ?  and  where  is  aunt  ?  I  should  have 
gone  up  to  see  you,  but  mother  assured  me  you  would  be 
down  here  this  evening." 

"  Yes,  I  depended  upon  Amanda ;  but,  as  usual,  she  is  off 
among  the  fashionables — gone  to  the  opera  with  the  Elving- 
tons.  Well,  Robert,  tell  me  something  about  your  proceed- 


A    IEEP   AT    NEW    YORE    SOCIETY.  75 

ings  during  the  last  six  months.  You  look  very  foreign :  all 
the  girls  will  be  winking  at  you." 

Young  Leeson  repeated  many  of  the  details  he  had  al- 
ready related  to  the  other  members  of  his  family.  All 
were  much  entertained,  and  eleven  o'clock  came  around 
before  they  were  aware  of  it. 

"Mercy!"  exclaimed  Alice  Irving;  "I  must  be  off! 
Mother  will  scold  me,  unless  the  traveller  comes  in  to-mor- 
row to  plead  my  cause,"  she  added,  smiling. 

"  I  will  do  that,  immediately,"  responded  the  young  man, 
preparing  to  accompany  the  young  girl. 

"Good-night,  all!"  said  Aunt  Seraph,  as  she  made  her 
exit,  after  reminding  the  family  circle  that  she  expected 
them  the  next  day  to  dinner. 

"  I  should  be  most  happy  to  see  you  and  Mrs.  Grantly 
also,"  she  added,  turning  to  Mr.  Grantly. 

"  Nothing  could  give  me  more  pleasure,  my  dear  madam, 
but  I  cannot  promise,  as  my  wife  has  engagements  for 
every  day  this  week,"  replied  the  old  gentleman.  "I  get 
BO  tired  of  this  restless  life  !" 

"  Don't  forget  that  Thursday  is  my  day,"  interrupted 
Alice,  who  stood  cloaked  and  hooded,  chattering  with 
Helen  and  Laura'.  "  You  know  Aunt  Martha  is  to  be 
absent ;  otherwise  I  should  not  dare  have  a  party,  small  as 
it  will  be.  Good-night !" 

How  truly  thankful  was  the  fond  mother,  as  she  led  her 
son  up  stairs  to  his  newly-furnished  room !  and  how  com- 
fortable it  appeared  to  the  traveller,  who  had  been  tossed 
about  from  hotel  to  hotel  for  so  many  days ! 

"  Home,  sweet  home  !"  he  murmured,  as  he  kissed  hia 
mother. 

7* 


76  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HAVE  not  our  readers  a  slight  curiosity  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  family  of  merry  little  Alice  ?  Let  us 
Btep  in  next  door,  and  take  a  seat  in  Mrs.  Irving's  plain 
but  very  neat  parlour,  so  different  from  the  magnificence 
which  reigns  on  the  other  side  of  that  party-wall.  Then 
we  must  peep  into  the  dining-room,  where  the  family  is  at 
breakfast ;  a  most  inviting  meal  will  induce  us  to  accept  the 
seat  ever  ready  for  a  visitor  at  Friend  Irving's  table. 

The  whole  appearance  of  the  establishment  was  very 
Quakerish ;  but  with  the  exception  of  Alice's  father  and 
his  widowed  sister,  Mrs.  Martha  Walker,  the  genuine 
weathers  of  the  "  Paddy  squeezers"  would  have  found  little 
sympathy  among  the  inmates  of  that  comfortable  mansion. 

Mrs.  Irving  was  an  Episcopalian.  A  young  girl  from  Con- 
necticut, she  had  met  Samuel  Irving,  then  a  very  handsome 
fellow,  at  a  sociable  tea-party,  and  had  willingly  consented  to 
become  his  wife,  with  the  prospect  of  living  in  a  fine  house 
in  New  York.  Mrs.  Irving  was  sincerely  attached  to  her 
husband;  and  consequently  gradually  conformed  to  his 
quiet  and  simple  tastes,  entirely  unmindful  of  the  worldly 
dreams  which  she  had  so  frequently  indulged  in  during  the 
few  years  of  dissipation  which  preceded  her  marriage. 
Besides  which,  a  very  large  family  would,  at  all  events,  have 
compelled  the  worthy  lady  to  limit  her  ei.joyments  to  her 
domestic  resources. 

Mrs.  Walker  had  not  approved  of  what  she  called  her 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW   YOKK    SOCIETY.  77 

brother's  rash  marriage,  and  was  much  distressed  at  his 
heing  thus  united  to  a  member  of  a  sect  which  she  consi- 
dered worldly  beyond  redemption.  However,  as  the  leading 
trait  of  Aunt  Martha's  character  was  genuine  kindness  of 
feeling,  and  as  she  saw  her  young  and  very  good-looking 
sister-in-law  adopt  the  ways  of  her  husband,  and  make  his 
home  a  very  happy  one,  she  gradually  relented ;  so  much  so, 
that  when  she  became  a  widow,  she  accepted  her  brother's 
offer  to  come  and  live  with  him ;  and  the  intercourse  be- 
tween the  two  sisters  had  ever  been  most  satisfactory  to 
both. 

Mrs.  Walker  was  wealthy ;  her  husband  had  left  her  a 
very  considerable  fortune,  with  which  she  joyfully  assisted 
her  brother,  whose  numerous  charges  were  gradually  render- 
ing an  increase  of  income  of  vital  importance  to  him.  The 
remainder  of  her  means  the  kind  Quakeress  devoted  to 
deeds  of  mercy.  She  was  a  philanthropist  of  that  noble 
kind  who,  like  angels  on  earth,  apply  all  the  energies  of 
their  minds  to  the  relief  of  the  afflicted.  Day  after  day, 
the  devoted  woman  visited  the  poor,  the  sick — those  who 
never  utter  a  murmur,  but  whose  sufferings  are  by  far  the 
most  acute.  Mrs.  Walker  knew  them  all;  and  many  a 
tear  had  fallen  on  the  smiling  lip  as  words  of  comfort  and 
solid  benefit  marked  the  entrance  of  their  best  friend. 

Many  authors  have  portrayed  the  errors  of  the  wealthy : 
their  selfish  extravagance,  their  cold  indifference  to  the 
pitiful  cry  of  their  fellow-beings.  Alas !  there  are  such 
in  this  sad  world ;  and  'tis  well  that  now  and  then  a 
glance  at  that  literary  mirror  which  we -call  novels  should 
reflect  their  fatal  weaknesses,  and  point  out  the  morbid  state 
of  their  moral  self.  But  while  these  dark  shades  in  the 
picture  of  humanity  are  thus  drawn  by  an  artist's  hand, 
great  should  be  the  care  to  bring  forth  the  brilliant  lights 


78  HELEN  LEESON: 

of  love  an  \  charity  which  God,  in  his  mercy,  has  allowed 
to  dawn  upon  us.  Otherwise,  what  will  be  the  conse- 
quence ?  The  poor — that  portion  of  humanity  so  sorely 
tried,  and  therefore  so  ready  to  throw  an  odium  upon  their 
more  favoured  brethren — the  poor  will  entertain  but  a 
feeling  of  bitter  enmity  toward  the  wealthy,  whom  they 
consider  unjustly  blessed  and  ever  ready  to  oppress  them. 
Many  and  sad  have  been  the  effects  of  the  excitement  thus 
produced  upon  the  masses  by  injudicious  writers  ! 

Let  us  try  to  communicate  to  our  readers,  rich  and  poor, 
a  blessed  feeling  of  love  and  protection  on  the  one  side, 
and  love  and  confidence  on  the  other.  God  has  so 
framed  society  that  equality  is  an  impossible  aim.  All 
attempts  to  reach  it  have  been  unavailing,  except  in  mat- 
ters of  government.  Let  us  then  be  thankful  for  the  en- 
joyment of  that  desired  object  as  regards  our  civil  rights, 
and  submit,  with  friendly  feeling  toward  all,  to  the  fate 
which  Providence  has  chosen  to  assign  to  us. 

Mrs.  Walker,  notwithstanding  her  many  virtues,  was 
not  faultless ;  she  was  unreasonably  prejudiced  against  so- 
ciety and  its  votaries.  In  her  eyes,  a  ball  was  a  monstrous 
assemblage  of  wickedness  and  iniquity ;  no  salvation  pos- 
sible for  those  who  mixed  with  the  followers  of  fashion ; 
and  she  was  indefatigable  in  her  endeavours  to  correct  the 
very  evident  inclination  of  her  niece  for  the  amusements 
of  the  gay.  As  is  generally  the  case,  instead  of  producing 
the  desired  effect  upon  Alice,  her  aunt's  sermons  only 
teuded  to  increase  her  taste  for  the  intercourse  of  her  more 
worldly  and  more  indulgent  friends ;  and  although  hers 
was  one  of  those  bright,  cheerful  natures  which  no  domes- 
tic annoyance  can  disturb,  still  Alice  was  a  shade  happier 
Aunt  Martha  was  away. 

For  a  long  time  the  young  girl  had  been  anxious  to  re- 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  79 

ceive  a  few  friends — the  Leesons  and  five  or  six  others ; 
but  she  had  never  dared  express  her  wish  in  her  aunt's 
presence.  It  so  happened  that  Mrs.  Walker  had  gone  to 
Elizabethtown  to  spend  a  week  with  a  poor  friend  of  hers 
•who  had  just  lost  a  child,  and  was  in  very  delicate  health. 
"  Now,"  thought  Alice,  "  is  the  time ;"  and  with  very  littlo 
persuasion  she  obtained  from  her  mother  the  wished-for 
permission. 

"  How  nicely  the  parlours  look,  this  evening!"  said  the 
young  girl,  as  she  tripped  about,  arranging  the  furniture  in 
the  most  advantageous  manner,  and  placing  two  beautiful 
bouquets  in  a  conspicuous  situation. 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Irving,  sighing;  "this  reminds  me  of 
my  young  days.  I  wish  we  could  now  and  then  see  a  little 
company,  for  really  one  gets  tired,  sometimes,  of  Friend 
Barker  and  his  wife  Sally.  What  a  pity  your  father  ob- 
jects so  much  to  our  receiving  !  I  think  he  would  enjoy  it." 

"  Oh !  I  would  not  mind  pa !"  said  Alice.  "  Aunt  Martha 
is  the  great  opponent  I  have  to  contend  with.  I  wonder 
if  aunty  was  ever  young?"  she  added,  laughing  at  her  notion. 

"I  should  think  so,"  said  Mrs.  Irving.  "By-the-by, 
who  do  you  expect  to-night,  Alice  ?" 

"  Well,  let  me  see !  We  shall  be  twelve,  altogether ;  just 
enough  to  set  down  comfortably  at  the  tea-table  and  enjoy 
old  Susan's  hot  cakes.  I  invited  Helen  and  Robert,  Laura 
and  Aunt  Seraph,  who  promised  to  come;  can't  be  quite 
sure  of  those,  for  Laura  is  so  dull.  My !  the  idea  of  mourn- 
ing two  years  for  one's  husband  !  I  should  be  distressed  to 
think  that  any  man  could  obtain  so  many  tears  from  me  ' 
Now,  Laura  would  suit  Aunt  Martha  to  a  T." 

"Come,  come,  Alice!"  interrupted  her  mother;  "don't 
talk  so  much,  and  tell  me  who  your  guests  are.  this 
evening." 


80  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  I  will  tell  you,  if  you  promise  not  to  scold.  I  asked 
the  Warrens,  Emma  Grantly,  Herman  Smith,  Allan  Dor- 
say,  and  Harry  Marvell." 

"Is  that  all?"  said  Mrs.  Irving.  "Why  should  I  scold 
about  those  you  mention  ?  I  know  they  are  intimate  with 
our  good  neighbours  next  door." 

"  But  that  is  not  quite  all,"  said  Alice,  with  an  arch  look. 
"I  met  Mr.  Marvell,  this  morning,  in  Broadway.  He 
stopped  me  to  say  that,  if  perfectly  agreeable  to  me,  he 
would  introduce  a  charming  young  Scotchman  to  us,  this 
evening;  and  as  I  could  not  say  no,  why,  I  said  yes !" 

"Mr.  Marvell  is  a  great  busybody!"  said  Mrs.  Irving. 
"  The  strange  gentleman  will  think  there  is  a  party  here ; 
and  if  your  aunt  hears  of  it  we  will  all  get  scolded." 

"What  is  the  use  of  anticipating  evil  T'  responded  Alice, 
as  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  pretty  self  in  a  mite  of  a 
looking-glass  which,  by  her  especial  desire,  had  been  al- 
lowed to  remain  in  one  corner  of  the  Quaker  parlour. 

The  bell  rang,  and  as  Helen  had  promised  to  come  early, 
Alice  went  out  to  receive  her  friend.  But  it  was  Miss 
Marsy  and  Laura,  who  had  made  a  great  effort  to  gratify 
her  aunt.  Miss  Seraphina  was  borne  down  by  the  weight  of 
her  elegant  dress  and  elaborately  trimmed  cap — all  too  fine, 
she  thought ;  but  having  been  brought  from  Paris  by  Ro- 
bert, she  considered  herself  in  duty  bound  to  wear  them  on 
this  occasion  ;  perhaps  the  only  one  which  would  offer  itself 
that  winter.  Laura,  as  usual,  wore  a  black  silk  dress  and 
a  black  lace  collar.  Many  would  have  thought  that  co- 
quetry induced  the  young  countess  to  keep  on  that  mourn- 
er's dress,  which,  with  her  light  hair,  was  so  very  becoming. 
But  far  different  was  her  motive.  To  please  her  aunt,  she 
consented  to  change  her  bombazine  for  a  silk,  but  de- 
clared that  sne  never  would  put  on  even  a  coloured  ribbon ; 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.          81 

and  the  family  had  finally  given  up  the  hope  of  seeing  a 
change  in  the  young  widow's  dress.  The  splendid  shawl 
which  Robert  had  brought  was  laid  aside  until  some  favour- 
able opportunity  would  offer  of  presenting  it  to  a  friend. 

"  I  am  so  happy  to  see  you,  Miss  Marsy !"  said  Mrs.  Ir- 
ving, as  she  gave  her  guest  a  comfortable  arm-chair.  "  How 
are  you,  my  dear  countess  ?"  Like  all  persons  who  seldom 
mix  with  the  worldly,  Mrs.  Irving  was  delighted  with  every 
little  tinge  of  grandeur,  and  would  not  have  omitted  Laura's 
title  on  any  account. 

"What  beautiful  flowers!"  remarked  Aunt  Seraph. 
"May  I  ask  where  they  are  from?" 

"  Oh !  a  very  innocent  source.  Anna  Leeson  sent  me 
this  one,  and  Emma  Grantly  the  other.  You  see  my  ad- 
mirers won't  quarrel  about  my  favours  !" 

"  So  much  the  better,  Alice,"  said  Laura,  as  she  sat  near 
the  fire. 

"  There  is  Helen  !  I  know  Robert's  ring  !"  exclaimed 
Miss  Irving.  "  Good-evening,  neighbours ;  you  are  so  late 
and  fashionable ;  that  won't  do  for  a  Quaker  tea-party!" 

Helen  seemed  more  cheerful  than  usual.  Robert's  re- 
turn had  diverted  her  mind  from  its  anxious  meditations, 
and  she  quite  enjoyed  the  prospect  of  a  cosy  tea-party 
among  her  dearest  friends. 

Robert,  of  course,  was  in  fine  spirits ;  Laura  was  there. 
For  the  first  time  since  her  husband's  death,  the  young 
countess  had  consented  to  appear  in  so  large  a  circle,  and 
the  lover  augured  well  of  this  favourable  change.  He  little 
knew  how  unchanged  the  heart  was  ! 

Emma  Grantly  and  the  Warrens  came  in,  and,  shortly 
after,  Herman  Smith  and  Allan  Dorsay.  The  conversation 
was  very  animated,  and  Mrs.  Irving  was  enchanted  with  thic 
reiniuiscence  of  her  young  days. 


82  HELEN  LEESON: 

"How  did  you  like  the  Elvington  party,  Miss  Emma?" 
inquired  Allan  Dorsay. 

"Pretty  well :  it  was  so  crowded  we  could  scarcely  dance. 
I  am  getting  very  tired  of  those  large  balls.  Ah !  here  is 
Mr.  Marvell,"  added  Emma,  blushing.  The  blush  wa8 
addressed  to  our  friend  Mac  Tavish,  who  followed  Marvell, 
and  made  a  most  gracious  bow  to  Mrs.  Irving  and  her 
daughter. 

"  I  am  very  happy  to  see  you,  sir,"  said  the  lady ;  "  but 
fear  Mr.  Marvell  has  taken  a  great  responsibility  in  in- 
viting you  to  spend  the  evening  with  such  quiet  people  as 
we  are." 

"  Indeed,  you  wrong  yourself,  madam  ;  I  am  fully  aware 
of  the  many  intellectual  resources  possessed  by  the  ladies 
of  your  family.  Have  I  the  honour  of  seeing  Mrs.  Walker, 
the  friend  of  the  afflicted  ?"  added  the  unlucky  Mac  Tavish, 
addressing  Aunt  Seraph. 

"  I  cannot  aspire  to  so  noble  a  title,"  said  Miss  Marsy, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Miss  Marsy — Mr.  Mac  Tavish  ;  Miss  Leeson's  aunt," 
said  Alice,  who  could  scarcely  refrain  from  laughing. 
"Let  me  introduce  you  to  the  Countess  Marini." 

The  gentleman  bowed  low  to  the  beautiful  widow,  and 
was  about  to  make  some  very  flattering  remark,  when  his 
eye  met  a  sharp  glance  from  Robert,  who  had  an  instinc- 
tive dread  of  all  foreigners.  However,  he  soon  found  that  • 
there  was  nothing  to  fear  in  that  quarter,  and  was  much 
pleased  with  the  easy  manners  of  the  young  Scotchman. 

As  usual,  Marvell  managed  to  make  himself  very  agree- 
able; he  was  the  most  elastic  being  of  this  caoutchouc 
age.  He  knew  how  to  draw  up  his  figure  to  suit  the  dig- 
nified style  of  Grantly  Hall ;  and,  with  equal  facility,  he 
could  conform  his  conversation  and  manners  to  the  simple 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  83 

tastes  of  the  Quaker  family ;  and  before  the  evening  waa 
over,  the  kind  hostess  had  reason  to  regret  the  uncharitable 
epithet  which  she  had  applied  to  the  gentleman  of  fashion. 
Even  Miss  Marsy  was  amused  by  some  of  Marvell's  anec- 
dotes, and  a  description  of  Mac  Tavish's  travels. 

"Why  don't  you  play  charades?"  asked  Robert.  "I 
aaw  some  in  Paris,  which  were  got  up  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment,  beautifully  played,  and  one  of  the  most  agreeable 
entertainments  I  ever  witnessed." 

"  That  would  be  delightful !"  said  Alice.  "  How  is  it 
done,  Robert  ?  Can  you  direct  us  ?" 

"  Perfectly ;  it  is  very  easy.  You  prepare  a  sort  of  a 
stage,  and  use  the  folding-doors  instead  of  a  curtain  ;  then 
you  select  a  word,  which  you  represent ;  that  is,  dividing  it 
by  syllables,  and  the  audience  must  guess  it.  It  is  capital 
fun." 

"  I  should  think  so.  Well,  supposing  we  try  some  ?" 
said  Miss  Irving. 

"Alice,  my  dear,  I  am  afraid  the  noise  might  disturb 
your  father,  who  is  not  'very  well,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Irving,  alarmed  at  the  idea  of  allowing  a  performance  ot 
any  kind  in  her  house. 

"Yes,"  said  Emma.  "Let  us  put  it  off  to  another 
time,  Mr.  Smith,"  she  added,  to  Herman,  who  was  leaning 
over  her  chair,  looking  at  an  album  which  she  was  examin- 
ing "  Why  were  you  not  at  aunt's  ball,  some  weeks  ago  ? 
and  why  do  you  never  go  anywhere  !" 

"  Because  I  take  no  pleasure  in  such  amusements,"  an- 
swered Herman,  "  and  am  not  missed  by  any  one." 

"  How  modest !  but  not  exactly  sincere,  I  think,"  said 
the  young  girl,  as  she  looked  up  at  her  companion  with  one 
of  those  gracious  smiles  which  have  often  rivalled  true 
beauty. 


84  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Well,  if  I  knew  that  one  single  friend  thought  of  me 
in  the  midst  of  that  whirlpool  of  fashion  and  splendour, 
I  might  not  go  out  more  often ;  but  I  would  be  very  much 
flattered,"  said  Herman. 

"  You  are  missed — often  missed.  Now,  that  is  quite 
enough  to  feed  your  vanity  for  one  night,"  added  Miss 
Grantly,  in  a  playful  tone,  fearing  that  she  might  have 
Baid  rather  too  much,  and  leaving  the  young  man  in 
uncertainty  regarding  the  seriousness  of  her  remarks. 

"  I  have  made  two  or  three  most  agreeable  acquaintances 
of  late,"  continued  Emma.  "  Have  you  heard  of  Professor 
Amory,  who  has  been  lecturing  here  on  philosophy.  He 
was  introduced  to  me  at  the  Coverleys  last  week  ;  and  that 
same  evening  I  had  a  most  delightful  talk  with  M.  de 
Cerny,  a  French  naturalist,  who  is  on  a  scientific  tour 
in  this  country.  Nothing  can  be  more  entertaining 
and  fascinating  than  his  conversation.  Mamma  has  in- 
vited these  gentlemen  to  a  small  literary  party ;  will  you 
not  come  also  ?  It  would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  see 
you." 

"I  cannot  refuse  such  an  invitation  from  you,  Miss 
Emma,"  was  the  answer. 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  in  one  corner  of 
the  drawing-room,  merry  peals  of  laughter  sounded  from 
the  opposite  direction,  where  sat  the  Warrens,  Miss  Emily, 
and  her  sister  Delia,  a  consummate  flirt,  who  was  making 
the  very  best  of  her  advantages  to  captivate  Marvell  and 
Mac  Tavish — both  fully  aware  of  the  danger  to  which 
they  were  exposed.  Alice  was  receiving  sundry  compli- 
ments from  Allan  Dorsay.  who  did  not  attempt  to  conceal 
the  admiration  he  felt  for  the  pretty  little  Quakeress. 
Helen  and  Robert  had  joined  the  more  quiet  coterie  com- 
posed of  Aunt  Seraph,  Laura,  and  Mrs.  Irving.  All 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.'  85 

seemed  quite  satisfied  with  the  lot  which  chance  had  as- 
signed to  them,  except  Mac  Tavish,  who  now  and  then 
looked  at  Herman  as  though  he  would  have  annihilated 
his  unconscious  rival. 

Mrs.  Irving  left  the  room.  A  few  moments  after,  the 
folding-doors  were  opened,  and  a  servant-girl  came  forward 
with  a  grin,  announcing  that  "  tea  was  ready ;  please  to 
walk  in." 

The  young  people  were  quite  ready  to  appreciate  the 
many  delicacies  which  were  set  before  them — a  real 
Quaker  tea-table,  loaded  with  hot  cakes,  relishes  of  all 
kinds,  and  most  delicious  coffee.  Mac  Tavish,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  seated  between  Emma  and  Alice,  enjoyed  the 
repast  exceedingly  ;  but  as  he  looked  around  at  the  merry 
guests,  he  could  not  imagine  where  the  sensible  woman 
was  whom  Marvell  had  announced  to  him.  Laura,  not 
being  very  well,  had  gone  in  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the 
evening  with  Mrs.  Leeson. 

Great  was  the  satisfaction  of  Alice  as  she  surveyed  her 
guests ;  it  was  so  delightful  to  have  a  party  at  home  !  But 
the  poor  child's  joy  was  not  of  long  duration.  While 
merry  jokes  from  Marvell  and  Robert  called  forth  peala 
of  laughter  from  the  party,  the  door  opened,  and  Aunt 
Martha  stood  before  them. 

The  ghost  of  Banquo  appearing  to  Macbeth  could  not 
have  inspired  more  consternation  to  the  guilty  man's  breast, 
than  did  this  unexpected  apparition  to  the  conscience- 
stricken  mother  and  daughter.  However,  Mrs.  Walker 
was  too  much  of  a  lady  to  allow  her  astonishment  and  dis- 
satisfaction to  betray  themselves  upon  her  countenance. 
She  smiled  and  said,  as  the  young  men  rose  to  offer  her  a 
seat,  "  Pray,  be  seated,  gentlemen.  I  came  home  very 
unexpectedly ;  but  I  have  had  tea,  and  am  going  up  to  my 


86  HELEN  LEESON: 

room  immediately.  Good-evening  ;  I  hope  I  have  not  dis- 
turbed  you." 

"  Well !"  exclaimed  Alice,  half  vexed  and  half  amused, 
as  her  mother  followed  Mrs.  Walker  out  of  the  room,  "  if 
this  is  not  too  bad !"  Then,  perceiving  she  had  made  a 
silly  speech,  she  added,  "  I  can't  bear  the  idea  of  not 
having  had  aunt  to  tea  with  us — she  would  have  enjoyed  it 
BO  much." 

The  party  adjourned  to  the  drawing-room,  after  having 
duly  tested  the  bountiful  hospitality  offered  by  Mrs.  Irving. 
But  there  seemed  to  be  much  less  spirit  among  the  young 
people  than  before  Aunt  Martha  had  made  her  appearance. 
The  fact  was,  that  Alice  had  her  misgivings  about  the  con- 
sequences of  her  act  of  independence,  particularly  as  she 
had  intended  coaxing  her  aunt  into  the  purchase  of  a  valu- 
able muff  which  she  had  set  her  mind  upon.  Mrs.  Walker 
was  extremely  generous,  but  her  niece  felt  that,  as  matters 
stood,  her  fingers  would  certainly  freeze  that  winter. 

Soon  after,  the  company  retired,  and  with  a  heavy  heart 
and  tearful  eyes,  the  usually  cheerful  girl  went  up  to  her 
modest  bed-room,  dreading  the  censure  which  the  morrow 
would  bring.  Mrs.  Walker's  judgment  was  at  fault  there. 
Indulgence  toward  the  young,  toward  all — here  is  tha 
secret  of  positive  and  beneficial  influence  1 


A  PEEP  AT   NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.  87 


CHAPTER  X. 

As  the  poor  mother  had  feared,  Robert  Leeson  had 
scarcely  been  home  a  few  weeks,  when  he  fell  in  with  all 
his  old  associates,  and  resumed  his  former  habits  of  idle- 
ness and  dissipation. 

This  was  most  distressing  to  Mrs.  Leeson,  who  remon- 
strated in  vain  with  her  son,  and  night  after  night  lay 
awake  until  she  heard  his  footstep  on  the  stairs.  How 
many  mothers  have  done  the  same,  alas ! 

Boget,  who  considered  herself  fully  authorized  to  take 
a  prominent  part  in  any  thing  which  concerned  her  chil- 
dren, attempted  a  little  ruse  de  guerre  to  correct  the  mis- 
led young  man.  For  several  nights  she  sat  up  for  him ; 
and  as  she  opened  the  door  at  a  very  late  hour,  she  gently 
reprimanded  her  boy,  as  she  called  him,  and  even  stopped 
in  his  room  to  say  that  his  conduct  was  disgraceful,  and 
that  he  would  break  his  mother's  heart. 

"  There  is  no  use  talking  this  way,  Boget,  and  waiting 
up  for  me ;  I  am  young,  and  must  sow  my  wild  oats.  You 
and  mother  take  a  wrong  view  of  the  matter.  Would  you 
make  an  old,  settled-down  fellow  of  me  ?  Nonsense  !" 

"  Nonsense,  Mr.  Robert !"  rejoined  the  good  woman ; 
"  you  are  not  out  at  this  hour  for  any  good  purpose ;  ten 
to  one  you  spend  your  money  playing  cards." 

"  Well,  if  I  do.  Don't  father  pass  all  his  evenings  at 
the  club  ?  and  has  not  mother  been  miserable  for  years  ? 
When  I  get  a  wife,  I  won't  do  so." 

8* 


88  HELEN    LEESOX : 

"You  are  like  all  wicked  people,"  answered  Boget ; 
"  glad  enough  to  throw  the  responsibility  of  your  errors  on 
others.  Good-night,  Mr.  Robert !  Do  as  you  please,  but 
remember  what  I  tell  you :  she  never  will  smile  upon  you, 
if  you  behave  in  this  way." 

"  She  never  will,  at  any  rate,"  said  the  young  man,  aa 
the  door  closed  upon  the  friend  of  his  childhood. 

Helen  attempted  to  prevail  upon  her  brother  to  change 
his  habits,  but  without  success.  She  was  devotedly  at- 
tached to  him,  and  thought  long  and  earnestly  of  the 
means  of  reclaiming  him.  She  saw  but  one  plan  to  adopt, 
and  that  was,  to  have  company  at  home,  and  go  out  with 
the  young  man  as  often  as  possible.  The  former  object 
was  not  easy  to  accomplish,  as  Mr.  Leeson  had  complained 
a  great  deal  lately  of  bad  business  and  the  extravagance 
of  his  family. 

Helen  was  too  proud  to  receive  politeness  from  her  large 
circle  of  acquaintances  without  returning  it,  and  that  win- 
ter they  had  had  but  one  small  party. 

Mrs.  Grantly,  who  was  roost  punctilious  in  matters  of 
etiquette,  had  told  her  brother  several  times  that  he  could 
not  possibly  avoid  giving  a  ball;  that  Helen's  establish- 
ment depended  upon  it. 

"  I  cannot  do  it,  Amanda,"  responded  Mr.  Leeson  to 
the  reiterated  arguments  of  his  sister.  "  Business  is  un- 
usually bad  this  winter ;  it  would  be  a  great  piece  of  folly." 

"  How  silly^in  you  to  talk  so  !"  said  the  worldly  woman. 
"  What  will  people  say,  seeing  Miss  Leeson,  the  daughter 
of  the  rich  Robert  Leeson,  go  out,  night  after  night,  and 
never  receive  her  friends  ?  That  will  injure  your  credit 
more  than  the  thousand  dollars  a  ball  will  cost  you.  You 
will  lose  your  position  in  society ;  and  I  value  that  above 
every  thing,"  added  Mrs.  Grantly. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.          g9 

And  Mr.  Leeson,  who  ever  gave  up  to  his  sister's  argu- 
ments, probably  because  she  was  a  more  fascinating  per- 
sonification of  his  own  proud  self,  told  his  wife  that  in- 
vitations must  be  sent  out  for  a  ball,  to  be  given  in  two 
weeks  in  great  style.  And  while  the  apparently  wealthy 
man  was  making  a  display  of  his  fictitious  thousands,  the 
bills  of  his  household  were  left  unpaid.  Alas !  how  many 
brilliant  entertainments  have  been  given  under  the  same 
circumstances ! 

Two  or  three  days  before  the  ball,  Helen  received  a  note 
from  her  aunt,  requesting  her  to  go  to  the  opera  with  her. 
She  was  extravagantly  fond  of  music.  Many  a  pleasant 
evening  had  she  spent  with  Anna  at  the  piano ;  and,  in 
her  present  state  of  mind,  the  prospect  of  a  few  hours' 
audition  of  Bosio's  delightful  voice  was  most  grateful. 
Mrs.  Grantly  called  for  her  niece  at  the  appointed  time, 
and  a  few  moments  afterward  Helen  was  comfortably 
seated  in  her  aunt's  box. 

Many  have  been  the  regrets  felt  and  expressed  by  the 
lovers  of  music  at  the  non-success  of  that  beautiful  little 
opera-house  in  Astor  Place.  Such  an  agreeable  resort  for 
our  young  men — such  a  positive  security  against  their 
seeking  amusement  elsewhere  !  There  was  an  atmosphere 
of  elegance  and  refinement  about  it,  which,  added  to  the 
beauty  and  toilets  of  the  ladies,  made  its  attractions  irre- 
sistible, and  greatly  contributed  to  improve  the  tastes  and 
manners  of  the  younger  members  of  our  community ;  in 
fact,  kept  many  older  ones  from  the  less-refining  seduc- 
tions of  the  club. 

"  Music  hath  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast." 

From  ages  immemorial  its  effects  upon  the  wildest,  sternest 
passions  of  man  have  been  evident,  and  the  improvement 


90  HELEN     LEESOX: 

in  the  musical  taste  of  a  nation  is  a  sure  test  of  its  in 
creasing  civilization.      Would  it  not  be   desirable,  then, 
that  measures  should  be  taken  to  afford  our  young  people 
a  permanent  opportunity  of  improving  their  knowledge  of 
a  science  which  can  but  produce  a  beneficial  effect  upon  all  ? 

Helen  listened  with  delight  to  the  sweet  strains  of  Bosio, 
in  the  first  act  of  Lucia ;  and  as  she  witnessed  the  con- 
strained marriage  of  the  young  Scotch  lady,  the  strange 
circumstances  of  her  own  mysterious  union  flashed  across 
her  mind. 

The  curtain  dropped ;  she  took  up  her  opera-glass  and 
mechanically  directed  it  toward  the  private  boxes.  There, 
in  the  darkest  corner  of  one  of  them,  sat  a  figure  which 
Helen  could  not  mistake ;  it  was  he — he  again  ! 

An  icy  feeling  closed  around  the  young  girl's  heart  as 
she  hastily  withdrew  the  glass,  which  for  an  instant  had 
been  riveted  upon  that  box. 

"How  were  you  pleased,  Miss  Leeson?"  asked  Sydney 
Morris,  taking  a  seat  behind  the  ladies.  "  Is  not  this  most 
exquisite  ? — such  acting,  such  singing  !  One  could  almost 
fancy  oneself  in  Paris  !"  Sydney  Morris  had  never  been 
there,  but  he  delighted  in  the  idea  of  having  it  supposed  he 
had  visited  that  great  capital. 

"  I  enjoyed  the  music  exceedingly,  Mr.  Morris,"  replied 
Helen ;  "  but  the  heat  is  intense  !" 

"Will  you  take  a  walk  over  to  Mrs.  Elvington's  box, 
Elly?"  said  Robert. 

"  No,  I  would  rather  not.  Emma,  do  tell  me,  who  is  that 
fine-looking  man  in  the  parquette,  on  the  right  ?" 

"  Oh  !  that  is  M.  de  Cerny,  my  scientific  friend.  I  see 
he  has  recognised  me,  and  will  probably  make  us  a  visit," 
added  Emma. 

A  few  minutes  after  a  slight  knock  was  heard. 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YOKK    SOCIETY.  91 

"Good-evening,  M.  de  Cerny,"  said  Miss  Grantly,  aa 
/*h.e  rose.  "Allow  me  to  introduce  you  to  my  aunt,  Mrs. 
Grantly;  Miss  Leeson." 

"I  am  most  happy,"  said  the  gentleman,  "mademoiselle, 
to  meet  you  here  this  evening,  for  I  have  very  few  acquaint- 
ances in  New  York." 

"Do  you  intend  making  a  long  stay  in  our  country?" 
asked  Mrs.  Grantly,  quite  pleased  with  the  very  aristocratic 
appearance  of  Emma's  French  acquaintance. 

"  Several  months,  madame,"  rejoined  the  stranger,  in 
very  pure  English.  "  I  have  just  returned  from  Niagara ; 
and  no  expressions  can  describe  the  magnificence  of  the 
scenery  around  the  Falls,  in  this  season.  The  reflection  of 
the  sun's  rays  on  that  mass  of  ice  produces  a  magical  effect. 
I  have  been  delighted  with  my  visit  here,  so  fc.r ;  and  this 
evening,"  he  added,  smiling,  "one  must  be  fastidious  in- 
deed not  to  be  charmed  by  such  an  assembly  of  beauty 
and  elegance.  The  American  ladies  bear  the  palm  for 
loveliness,  most  certainly." 

"I  am  happy  to  hear  you  say  so,"  responded  Mrs. 
Grantly,  as  though  she  were  entitled  to  a  portion  of  the 
compliment.  "Are  you  acquainted  with  Miss  Dalton — 
Miss  Olivia  Coverley,  M.  de  Cerny?" 

"I  have  not  that  honour,  madame;  but  Miss  Grantly 
has  been  kind  enough  to  invite  me  to  meet  some  of  these 
ladies  at  her  house,"  answered  the  gentleman. 

"  Yes,  aunt,  we  are  to  have  a  real  treat — a  literary  soiree 
— next  week — " 

"I  should  think,"  interrupted  the  fine  lady,  "that  M. 
de  Cerny  had  quite  enough  of  those  pursuits,  without  an- 
noying him  with  the  same  subject  during  his  leisure  hours." 

"  Oh  !  no,  indeed  !  I  anticipate  great  pleasure  in  con- 
versing with  Professor  Amory  and  other  scientific  gentle 


92  HELEN    LEESOX: 

men,  •whom  I  have  met  once  or  twice.  You  know  there  ia 
a  kindred  feeling  among  the  students  of  this  world— a  free 
masonry — which  is  very  attractive,  I  assure  you." 

The  curtain  was  about  to  rise,  and  M.  de  Cerny  made 
his  exit. 

"A  very  agreeable  and  genteel  person,"  said  Mrs. 
Grantly,  who,  to  tell  the  truth,  had  found  the  foreigner 
rather  too  deep  for  her  superficial  knowledge. 

Helen  had  not  taken  the  least  part  in  the  above  conver- 
sation. Her  thoughts  were  far  distant  from  science,  or  even 
less  profound  topics.  Her  glance  at  the  opposite  private 
box  had  led  her  into  a  train  of  reminiscences  which  she  could 
not  drive  from  her  mind.  The  whole  of  the  strange  pro- 
ceedings of  that  terrible  night  stood  before  her,  and  then 
conjecture  succeeded  conjecture.  Who  could  he  be  ?  How 
came  he,  whom  she  considered  so  far  beneath  her  in  social 
position,  to  be  admitted  into  Mrs.  Murray's  box  ? 

Helen  knew  that  lady  to  be  very  particular  in  the  selec- 
tion of  her  acquaintances.  He  must,  then,  be  a  gentleman ; 
probably  a  friend  of  Mr.  George  Murray,  the  only  son  of 
that  genteel-looking  old  lady  who  is  such  an  attentive  lis- 
tener to  the  exquisite  music  of  Donizetti's  masterpiece. 

Mrs.  Grantly  and  her  niece  were  on  visiting  terms  with 
Mrs.  Murray,  but  nothing  more.  "  That  accounts  for  my 
not  meeting  that  man,"  thought  Helen.  "Why  did  I  not 
ask  Jane  Kelly  his  name?"  and  a  look  of  deep  concern 
settled  on  that  beautiful  countenance  which  had  arrested 
many  a  gaze,  elicited  many  an  exclamation  of  admiration. 
That  evening  our  heroine  wore  a  remarkably  becoming 
dress  of  pink  gros-de-naples,  with  several  flounces  of  tulle, 
low  in  the  neck,  and  short  sleeves.  A  simple  wreath  of 
blush  roses  formed  Helen's  head-dress.  She  had  one  of 
those  Grecian  profiles  which  such  a  coiffure  becomes  so  well. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YOKE  SOCIETY.          93 

No  jewels,  no  ornaments  whatever.  Nature  would  have 
rebelled  against  such  an  encroachment  of  art  upon  her  rights. 

Who  can  attempt  to  describe  the  feelings  of  the  young 
man  who  sat  in  the  darkest  recess  of  Mrs.  Murray's  box  ? 
Words  cannot  express  his  tortures,  his  agony,  as  he  gazed 
at  the  only  light  which  had  ever  dawned  upon  his  solitary 
and  dismal  fate ;  and  that  light,  alas !  surrounded  by  an 
impenetrable  cloud. 

We  have  seen  very  little  of  Walter,  and  already  we  al- 
most know  him.  More  merciful  than  Helen,  we  sympa- 
thize and  pity  the  wretched  youth  whose  lot  has  been  so 
sad,  and  who,  alas !  loves  so  ardently  and  so  despairingly. 
Deep,  indeed,  and  strong  is  that  passion,  when  it  takes  pos- 
session of  a  heart  as  pure,  as  untouched,  as  was  that  of 
Helen's  husband ! 

"Yes!"  he  thought,  every  nerve  racked  by  the  violent 
beating  of  his  heart — "  yes,  she  is  mine,  my  wife,  my  own ; 
and  I  dare  not  speak  one  word  to  her ;  nay,  dare  not  look 
at  her  !  Oh  !  this  cannot  last !  Death  were  a  thousand 
times  less  cruel  than  that  woman !  And  still,  is  she  to 
blame  ?  Oh  !  why  was  I  born  ?  Why  did  I  ever  see  her  ?" 
and  in  the  silent  anguish  of  his  despair  Walter  grasped,  nay, 
almost  tore,  the  crimson  curtain  behind  which  was  enacting 
a  tragedy  quite  as  terrific  as  poor  Lucy  Ashtou's  ravings. 

The  second  act  was  over,  and  Marvell  made  his  appear- 
ance in  Mrs.  Grantly's  box. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  any  thing  to  equal  that  singing?" 
inquired  Harry ;  "so  perfect?  And  I  have  been  trying  in 
vain  to  keep  those  Elvingtons  and  their  beaux  quiet.  Such 
a  want  of  decorum,  all  this  chatting,  while  others  are  listen- 
ing to  the  music  !"  added  the  young  man,  who  was  on  very 
intimate  terms  with  Mrs.  Grantly  and  her  nieces. 

"  In  very  bad  taste  !"  said  the  queen  of  fashion.    "But," 


94  HELEN  LEESON: 

she  added,  "  those  ladies  are  no  judges  of  good  music.  Just 
hear  Cora  Dalton  laugh ;  in  such  a  small  house  as  this,  one 
should  be  more  particular ;  every  thing  said  rather  loud 
can  be  overheard." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Mrs.  Seyton's  flirtation  with  Mr. 
Murray?"  continued  Marvell.  "I  believe  the  old  bachelor 
is  entrapped,  this  time.  He  has  spent  half  of  the  evening 
in  her  box.  His  mother  will  not  fancy  such  a  daughter-in- 
law!  I  have  just  been  over  to  see  her,  and  found  several 
of  my  old  cronies  there.  She  is  such  a  favourite  with  the 
young  men ;  so  kind  and  indulgent,  so  intellectual !  I 
would  rather  spend  an  hour  with  Mrs.  Murray  than  with 
that  noisy  set  over  there." 

"Harry  Marvell,"  said  Mrs.  Grantly,  "thou  art  becom- 
ing literary ;  take  care !  Having  one  scientific  niece,  I 
could  not  stand  it  if  you  became  blue  too.  Don't,  for 
mercy's  sake !" 

"You  talk  of  Murray's  marrying  that  beautiful  creature, 
Marvell,"  said  Robert,  who  had  returned  to  his  aunt's  box, 
after  a  butterfly  trip  among  the  belles.  "  She  is  not  fool 
enough  to  have  him,  with  her  advantages  and  wealth!  I 
would  not.  Do  you  know,  I  can't  bear  that  man  ?  He  was 
rude  to  me  once,  and  I  never  shall  forget  it." 

"How  ridiculous,  Robert!"  said  Helen.  "Mr.  Murray 
is  your  senior  by  twenty  years,  and  your  superior  in  every 
respect,  my  dear !" 

"I  don't  think  so;  and,  besides,  I'll  let  him  know,  the 
very  first  opportunity  I  have,  that  Young  America  won't 
tolerate  impertinence  from  any  one,  young  or  old !" 

"  Hush,  Robert !"  continued  his  sister.  "  I  should  be 
ashamed  if  any  one  heard  you  make  such  a  speech !  Mr. 
Marvell,"  she  added,  "I  wish  you  would  give  this  dear  boy 
some  of  your  refinement  and  good  manners !" 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.          95 

"  Impossible  !  Miss  Helen.  This  generation  is,  I  fear, 
beyond  redemption  !  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Leeson,"  continued 
Harry,  laughing ;  "  I  beg  your  lordship's  pardon.  Speaking 
of  lordships,  reminds  me  that  I  had  a  long  letter  from  Court- 
nay,  who  is  sighing  for  New  York.  Lord  Devere  is  much 
better,  and  both  gentlemen  will  be  back  in  a  few  weeks," 
added  Marvell,  with  a  peculiar  wink  at  Mrs.  Grantly,  who 
smiled  in  a  very  knowing  manner. 

".Silence,  please,  Mr.  Marvell;  I  want  to  hear  Bene- 
detti's  aria,"  said  Emma. 

Helen  thought  of  nothing  but  the  young  lord's  return, 
and  a  sigh  burst  from  her  lips. 

The  last  act  of  Lucia  was  admirably  sung.  Even  the 
Coverleys  and  Elvingtons  submitted  to  the  powerful  influ- 
ence of  those  exquisite  sounds. 

As  the  ladies  were  leaving  the  box,  Mr.  Marvell  offered 
his  arm  to  Mrs.  Grantly.  Robert  came  forward  to  escort 
Emma,  but  Sydney  Morris  stepped  up,  and  of  course  could 
not  be  refused.  Helen  took  her  brother's  arm,  and  they 
followed  the  crowd. 

As  they  were  about  going  down  stairs,  Robert  and  his 
sister,  who  had  been  left  some  distance  behind  their  party, 
came  in  very  close  contact  with  Mr.  Murray  and  Mrs.  Sey- 
ton.  The  former  inadvertently  trod  on  Robert's  fopt,  and 
immediately  apologized. 

"  Stupid  fool !''  said  the  young  man,  quite  loud  enough 
to  be  overheard  by  all. 

"  Was  that  addressed  to  me,  sir  ?"  inquired  George 
Murray,  as  Mrs.  Seyton,  foreseeing  something  unpleasant, 
left  her  escort  and  joined  one  of  her  acquaintances. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  young  Leeson,  in  a  very  rude 
manner.  "  You  did  it  on  purpose ;  and  it  is  not  the  first 

9 


96  HELEN   LEESON  : 

time  you  have  been  impertinent  to  me,"  he  added,  with 
increasing  anger. 

"  This  is  no  place  for  such  discussions,  sir,"  replied  Mr. 
Murray,  very  quietly;  "if  you  will  step  into  this  saloon,  I 
•will  listen  to  your  strange  remarks." 

" Robert,  for  Heaven's  sake!"  exclaimed  Helen,  "are 
jou  deranged  ?  Aunt  is  waiting  for  us ;  take  me  to  the 
carriage." 

"  I  cannot,"  answered  the  excited  young  man.  "  Here, 
Walter,"  he  added,  turning  to  a  gentleman  who  was 
within  a  few  steps  of  them,  "  do  take  charge  of  my  sister. 
I  have  a  few  words  to  say  to  Mr.  Murray.  Elly,  go  with 
Mr.  Grey;  he  is  a  friend  of  mine."  And  Robert  left  his 
sister  standing  alone,  as  he  followed  his  antagonist  into 
the  saloon. 

Terrified  and  almost  fainting  from  violent  emotion, 
Helen  took  the  arm  which  Walter  could  not  help  offering. 
Not  one  word  passed  between  them  until  they  were  within 
a  few  yards  of  the  carriage. 

"Do  not  be  alarmed  about  your  brother,"  said  the 
young  man,  in  a  whisper.  "  I  know  Mr.  Murray  well, 
and  will  endeavour  to  arrange  this  affair." 

"  Who  is  that  genteel-looking  young  man  ?"  asked 
Emma  Grantly,  as  her  friend  stepped  into  the  carriage. 

"One  of  Robert's  acquaintances.  I  don't  know  him," 
was  the  answer. 

A  few  moments  after,  Helen  reached  her  father's  door, 
and  dismissing  Sophie,  she  ran  up  to  her  room. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  thought  the  young  girl,  as  S!K 
burst  into  tears.  "Robert  will  fight  a  duel  with  Mr 
Murray — he  will  be  killed  !  And  that  man  there  again  ii> 
my  way — always  my  tormentor !  Oh!  Lord!  Who  shail 
]  consult !  Who  can  save  Robert!"  And  -  rhe  agitated 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW    YORK   SOCIETY.  97 

girl  opened  the  window,  that  the  night  air  might  cool  her 
feverish  brain,  she  thought  of  the  little  Friend  next  door. 

As  the  intimacy  between  the  two  young  girls  was  very 
great,  and  as  there  were  frequent  opportunities  of  inter- 
course. Alice,  ever  ingenious  when  any  merriment  was  in 
play,  had  contrived  an  easy  means  of  communicating  with 
her  neighbours.  She  had  tied  a  string  from  Helen's 
blind  to  hers,  and  from  this  string  hung  a  bell.  Many  a 
time  either  of  the  young  girls  had  jumped  up  from  her 
work  at  the  sound  of  the  little  tinkler,  and  many  a  chat 
had  been  borne  by  the  morning  or  evening  breeze  from 
Helen's  window  to  Alice's,  and  vice  versd. 

It  was  eleven  o'clock. 

"She  will  be  fast  asleep,"  thought  Robert's  anxious 
sister,  as  she  gazed  at  the  shining  moon,  and  thought  how 
pure  and  serene  was  its  light,  compared  to  the  dark  gloom 
of  her  own  heart.  But  grief  is  egotistical.  Helen  could 
endure  that  solitary  agony  no  longer.  She  touched  the 
string,  and  the  noise  of  the  little  bell,  gentle  as  it  was, 
soon  brought  Alice  Irving  to  the  window. 

"  Were  you  asleep,  Alice  ?A  asked  Helen.  "  I  am  really 
very  sorry  to  disturb  you  at  this  hour." 

"  Don't  mind  that,  dearest ;  I  was  not  asleep.  I  rest 
very  badly  now,"  said  the  little  Quakeress,  with  a  sadness 
very  unusual  to  her. 

But  Helen  was  too  intent  on  her  ow-n  cares  to  notice  tho 
shade  in  Alice's  voice. 

"  I  am  in  great  trouble,"  she  continued  :  "  Robert  haa 
just  had  a  quarrel  at  the  opera  with  Mr.  Murray ;  a  ridi- 
culous, foolish  affair,  which  may  turn  out  fatally  for  the 
poor  boy.  He  never  could  fire  a  pistol  in  his  life.  Oh, 
Alice,  the  very  thought  makes  me  shudder !  What  shall 
I  do?" 


98  HELEN  LBESON: 

"  I  really  don't  know ;  but  I  will  find  out  all  about  it. 
Why  do  you  not  write  to  Herman  Smith  ?" 

"Because  several  times  of  late  he  has  attempted  to 
reason  with  Robert  upon  his  conduct,  with  very  little  suc- 
cess ;  in  fact,  I  think  there  is  a  coolness  between  them. 
No  one  has  any  influence  over  the  wild  boy." 

"  Don't  distress  yourself,  Elly ;  I  will  obtain  a  full  ac- 
count of  the  affair  from  a  friend  of  mine  who  must  have 
Borne  knowledge  of  the  matter,  and  to-morrow,  by  sun- 
down, I  will  meet  you  here.  Good-night ;  it  is  rather  cold 
for  my  airy  costume." 

"  Good-night,"  responded  Helen  ;  "  a  thousand  thanks !" 
Both  windows  were  closed ;  but  it  was  long,  long  before 
sleep  visited  the  pillow  of  either  young  girl.  Helen's 
thoughts  wandered  over  the  occurrences  of  the  evening ; 
her  singular  meeting  with  Walter,  whose  name  she  had 
heard  for  the  first  time  from  her  brother's  lips  ;  and  strange 
to  say,  although  circumstances  had  certainly  contributed 
to  raise  him  in  her  estimation  that  evening,  as  regarded 
his  social  position,  still  the  same  unconquerable  aversion 
toward  him  filled  her  heart,  and  she  mentally  welcomed 
the  vision  of  Sir  Archibald,  his  admiration,  his  devotion, 
with  delight.  And  why  did  not  Alice  Irving  rest  quietly 
that  night  ?  Reader,  patience  is  a  virtue,  they  say.  Let 
us  practice  it  for  a  little  while  longer. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         99 


CHAPTER  XL 

*  RIDICULOUS  !  absurd  !"  said  Mrs.  Grantly  to  her  hus- 
band, as  they  sat  at  breakfast  on  the  morning  subsequent 
to  the  performance  of  La  Lucia.  "  How  can  you  talk  so, 
Mr.  Crrantly  ?  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.' 

"  Very  well,  just  as  you  like  ;  but  I  tell  you,  Amanda, 
that  it  is  nonsense  in  your  brother  to  live  as  he  does.  A 
man  in  business  never  knows  what  he  is  worth ;  and  I  have 
my  doubts  about  Robert's  being  so  wealthy.  He  is  the 
more  to  blame,"  continued  Mr.  Grantly,  "that  all  this 
extravagance  is  his  own  suggestion — or  rather  yours,  per- 
haps !"  The  last  few  words  were  said  very  softly,  the 
worthy  man  almost  regretting  he  had  uttered  them  at  all. 

"  Indeed,  you  think  so  ?"  said  the  lady  of  fashion,  in  a 
home  key  very  different  from  that  she  generally  used  in 
company.  "  Well,  I  can  tell  you,  that  were  it  not  for  my 
brother,  who  is  a  man  of  some  energy  and  spirit,  the  whole 
of  that  establishment  would  not  be  worth  a  fig  :  even 
Helen  is  becoming  serious  and  pious ;  and  surely  you  don't 
call  Anna  and  her  mother  anybody  !" 

"  I  think  very  highly  of  Mrs.  Leeson,  Amanda  ;  she  is 
a  genuine,  kind,  and  gentle  woman,  and  in  the  sphere  we 
live  in  those  charitable,  indulgent  natures  are  not  very 
common.  I  am  heartily  tired  of  this  constant  criticism 
and  interference  which  one  meets  at  every  step." 

"  Oh  !  you  were  no  more  fitted  to  occupy  your  present 
rank  in  society  than  I  to  become  a  queen ;  in  fact,  not  half 

9* 


100  HELEN  LEESON: 

so  much  so,"   continued  the  lady,  as  she  left  the  table 
and  walked  off  with  a  would-be-majestic  gait. 

"Well,  well!"  soliloquized  the  husband,  "give  me  such 
a  wife  as  poor  Matilda,  and  I  shall  be  satisfied.  Oh  !  why 
were  not  our  fates  reversed  ?"  sighed  the  wearied  man. 
Alas  !  Mr.  Grantly  knew  not  how  much  more  wise  Provi- 
dence has  been  in  assigning  to  each  of  us  a  path  in  which 
we  are  destined  to  relieve  or  be  relieved !  Blessed  pro- 
vision !  which'renders  humanity  ever  dependent  upon  itself, 
and  restores  to  society  that  equilibrium  without  which  it 
could  not  exist. 

"  Perhaps  he  may  be  right,"  thought  her  majesty  of 
fashion,  as  she  gave  herself  up  entirely  to  the  superior 
knowledge  of  her  maid,  Mademoiselle  Henriette,  in  the 
petty  details  of  her  elaborate  toilet.  "  The  more  reason, 
then,  for  hurrying  matters  and  getting  a  rich  husband  for 
Helen.  But  what  ails  the  girl  ?  I  can't  make  her  out,  of 
late." 

"  Have  you  ordered  the  carriage,  Henriette,  for  twelve 
o'clock,  exactly  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Grantly. 

"  Yes,  madam  ;  shall  I  give  you  de  pink  bonnet  or  de 
white  one?  Is  madam  going  to  visit  or  shop?"  asked  the 
French  woman,  whose  early  education  had  taught  her  the 
distinction  which  American  ladies  do  not  always  consider. 

"  Both ;  that  is  of  no  consequence  here.  I  am  going 
visiting  with  Miss  Leeson,  and  then  I  will  drive  down  to 
Stewart's  to  make  some  purchases." 

"  Pas  possible,  that  madam  will  wear  dis  beautiful  dress 
to  go  in  a  store,  nasty,  dirty  !"  added  the  maid  with  comi- 
cal astonishment.  What  would  Henriette  have  said  could 
she  have  seen  the  many  magnificent  dresses  trailing  in  Broad- 
way every  afternoon  ? — so  much  wanton  extravagance 
bad  taste ! 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         101 

"Now  I  am  quite  ready,"  said  Mrs.  Grantly,  as  she 
stood  fully  arrayed  .in  the  last  hints  of  fashion.  "How 
do  I  look,  Henriette  ?" 

"  Very  well,  madam,  to  call  to  see  de  ladies,  but  not  to 
go  to  stores,"  persisted  the  maid. 

Helen  was  not  prepared  for  her  aunt's  visit.  She  had 
risen  with  a  heavy  heart,  little  disposed  to  mix  with  the 
gay,  and  anxious  for  the  afternoon,  which  would  bring  her 
friend  to  the  promised  window,  rendezvous. 

Anna,  whose  regular,  unagitated  life  was  a  stranger  to 
the  violent  excitement  which  now  racked  poor  Helen's 
heart,  could  not  account  for  the  restless  nervousness  which 
her  sister  evinced  at  times,  and  particularly  that  morning. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  said  Helen,  as  she  sat  in  Anna's 
room,  unable  to  make  the  slightest  exertion.  "  Time  hangs 
BO  heavily  upon  me  this  morning." 

"  Play,  sing,  read,  work,"  replied  the  little  lame  girl,  as 
she  arranged  her  flowers ;  and  plucking  a  sweet  rosebud,  she 
placed  it  in  her  sister's  hair ;  then  running  for  a  looking- 
glass,  she  stood  before  her,  saying — 

"  Now  admire  yourself,  if  you  won't  do  any  thing  else ; 
that  is  really  becoming." 

"  Don't  put  rose-buds  in  my  hair,  Anna ;  let  the  happy 
chosen  ones  wear  the  pride  of  our  gardens." 

"  What !  not  accept  my  foolish  flower  ?  Nay,  then  I 
am  indeed  unblessed  !"  said  Anna,  smiling.  "  Now,  dearest, 
I  give  you  this,  the  first  bud  I  have  had  for  several  weeks ; 
promise  me  to  wear  it  all  day,  will  you?" 

"  Of  course,  if  you  wish  it ;  but  I  assure  you,  it  will 
soon  fade,  if  I  place  it  near  my  heart !" 

"  Oh,  sister  !  do  not  talk  thus,  you  distress  me.  What 
— what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  Are  you  ill — in  trouble  ? 
Has  your  allowance  given  out  ?"  added  the  kind  child,  her 


102  HELEN  LEESON: 

eyes  beaming  with  joy  at  the  idea  of  discovering  an  evil 
which  she  knew  she  could  remedy. 

"  No,  no,  indeed  !  I  have  never  been  so  economical ; 
in  fact,  I  can  spare  you  something  for  your  poor  pension- 
ers this  month,"  said  Helen.  "I  know  what  hurts  me. 
This  confined  city  life  does  not  agree  with  me ;  I  cannot 
bear  company.  These  balls  and  parties  are  killing.  In 
short,"  she  added,  as  the  tears  fell  fast  upon  the  flower 
Anna  had  given  her,  "  I  am  afraid  God  has  abandoned 
me  ;  he  does  not  love  me  as  he  loves  you,  Anna  !" 

"  Sister !  sister !"  cried  the  pious  child,  "  let  not  that 
wicked  thought  rest  one  instant  in  your  mind ;  chase  it 
from  you  as  the  breathing  of  the  evil  spirit !  Oh  !  no 
earthly  affection,  however  strong,  can  compare  with  the 
pure,  holy  love  the  Saviour  bears  all,  and  especially  his 
suffering  children  !  Yes,  dearest,"  continued  the  inspired 
girl,  "  if  you  have  cares  which  cannot  be  confided  to  those 
around  you,  let  your  heavenly  Father  be  your  comforter. 
He  will  apply  the  healing  balm  to  the  wound — he  will  dry 
those  tears  ;  not  as  I  do  now,  with  caresses  and  kisses,  but 
far  more  efficaciously  with  soothing  murmurs  of  relief  and 
joy.  It  is  not  when  the  blessings  of  earthly  goods  are 
showered  upon  us  that  we  feel  the  truth  of  what  I  tell  you. 
No  ;  it  is  when  those  fleeting  pleasures  are  withdrawn  from 
us — when  the  heart  is  sad,  dejected,  alone — that  the  holy 
visitation  is  needed  and  welcomed  !  And  when  the  rays 
of  that  glorious  hope  and  trust  have  dawned  upon  us,  the 
gilded  beams  of  this  passing  world  will  appear  very  dim  I" 

Helen  listened  to  the  sweet  sounds  of  her  sister's  voice. 
Oh  how  powerful  is  the  influence  of  words  of  comfort  and 
love  upon  the  suffering  mind !  'Tis  music — heavenly  music  ! 

"Now  I  know  Avhat  we  would  both  enjoy,"  said 
Anna, — "  a  visit  to  Allbreeze.  The  dear  old  place  must 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW  YORK   SOCIETY.  103 

be  lonely  without  us,  this  dreary  weather.  I  wonder 
whether  my  ducks  and  chickens  miss  me  ?  I  think  they  do." 

"  I  dare  say,"  replied  Helen,  who  had  brightened  at  the 
mention  of  their  country  residence,  where  she  had  spent 
every  summer  since  her  childhood. 

A llbreeze  was  a  beautiful  spot  on  Staten  Island,  which 
Mrs.  Leeson  had  purchased  in  the  early  years  of  her  mar- 
riage. She  had  derived  so  much  pleasure  from  her  quiet 
pursuits  at  the  old  place,  and  her  children's  health  had 
improved  so  evidently  year  after  year  from  the  beneficial 
effects  of  that  pure  air,  that  the  fond  mu-h^v  <isbociated  her 
only  remembrances  of  real  happiness  VICL  her  life  in  the 
country ;  and  Mrs.  Leeson  had  always  suA  that  nothing 
would  induce  her  to  sell  Allbreeze. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Anna,  pleased  with  the  happy  change 
in  her  sister's  countenance,  "  we  must  go  down  to  Staten 
Island  in  a  few  days.  The  country  is  ever  beautiful,  I 
think,  even  with  this  cold,  icy  atmosphere.  Let  me  see 
— we  are  now  in  February.  In  three  months  more  we  will 
be  settled  out  there ;  and  when  we  have  showers  of  roses 
around  us,  we  won't  think  of  cherishing  and  admiring  a 
little  bud  like  this  one." 

"True,"  responded  Helen.  "We  value  not  the  gifts  of 
Providence  when  we  are  in  the  midst  of  them ;  but  when 
the  dreary  blast  of  trial  has  chilled  our  hearts,  then,  as 
you  said  just  now,  Puss,  we  appreciate  even  a  word  of 
consolation." 

"But,"  added  Anna,  "you  have  no  experience  in  those 
matters,  sister;  you,  the  belle  of  fashion — the  ^ueen  of 
beauty !" 

"  'Tis  not  all  gold  that  glitters,"  sighed  Helen.  "  Many 
a  broken  heart  has  been  concealed  beneath  a  gorgeous 
mantle." 


104  HELEN  LEESON: 

A  gentle  knock  was  heard  at  the  door. 

"  Mrs.  Grantly  has  called  for  you,  miss,  to  go  visiting," 
said  Sophie. 

"  Oh  !  how  annoying  !" 

"Go,  go,  sister!"  interrupted  Anna;  "it  will  divert  your 
mind,  and  do  you  good;"  and  seeing  Helen  hesitate,  she 
added,  "  Sophie,  tell  Mrs.  Grantly  to  wait  a  few  moments. 
I  will  go  down  to  entertain  her.  I  know  mamma  is  out 
•with  Aunt  Seraph.  Now  hurry,  dearest,  and  make  your- 
self fine ;  you  know,  Sir  Archibald  will  be  here  in  a  few 


Little  did  the  fond  child  dream  of  the  anguish  that  name 
recalled. 

Helen  sat  a  moment,  as  if  undecided ;  then,  rising  sud- 
denly, she  exclaimed,  "  Why  not  stare  my  wretched  fate  in 
the  face?  What  care  I,  after  all  ?" 

Oh,  how  true  that  no  comfort  can  permanently  soothe 
the  heart  wherein  bitterness  and  rancour  reside  ! 

"  Shall  we  go  to  the  Elvingtons  ?  This  is  their  recep- 
tion-day," said  Mrs.  Grantly  to  her  niece,  as  they  entered 
the  carriage. 

"  Just  as  you  like,  aunt.  But  we  had  better  drive  down 
to  Stewart's  first,  as  you  have  some  purchases  to  make ; 
although,  really,  our  toilet  is  rather  showy  for  the  occasion." 

"  Nonsense !  You  are  like  Henriette.  Do  not  all  the 
New  York  ladies  promenade  their  finery  every  day  in 
Broadway?  Martin,  drive  to  Stewart's." 

Many  and  varied  were  the  emotions  of  the  belle  of  the 
season,  as  she  reclined  in  her  aunt's  comfortable  carriage, 
80  elegant  and  stylish,  eliciting  the  remarks  and  envy  of 
many  of  the  pedestrians  of  our  great  thoroughfare. 

Pride  !  pride  !  Its  influence  over  Helen's  mind  was  still 
6c  great,  that  it  admitted  of  no  compromise.  And  thus  it 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  105 

was  that  a  feeling  of  pity  and  mercy  toward  the  unfortu- 
nate agent  whom  fate  had  selected  to  bend  that  haughty 
spirit,  couli  not  enter  her  heart.  It  was  unchanged  ;  and, 
sad  to  say,  that  restless  craving  for  position  and  homage 
was  still  one  of  the  leading  features  of  Helen's  character. 
While  alone  with  her  single-minded  and  pious  sister,  the 
young  girl  had  submitted  to  that  benignant  communion  of 
peace  and  humility ;  but  when  exposed  to  the  scorching 
blast  of  her  aunt's  evil  example,  the  innate  weakness  was 
made  all-powerful. 

"  Is  your  dress  quite  ready  for  to-morrow  night,  Helen?" 
asked  Mrs.  Grantly,  as  she  stepped  out  of  her  carriage  at 
Stewart's. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  You  know  I  received  it  from  Paris.  It  is 
exquisite ! — so  new,  so  entirely  different  from  all  those  we 
have  seen  this  winter." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  answered  the  fine  lady.  "  I  dis- 
like any  thing  which  every  one  wears.  Ah !  Mr.  Marvell, 
is  that  you  ?"  continued  Mrs.  Grantly,  as  she  met  our  friend 
Harry.  "  Are  you  disengaged,  this  morning,  and  will  you 
accompany  us  to  the  Elvingtons  ?" 

"  Most  willingly,  dear  madam ;  but  I  have  Mac  Tavish 
here  with  me,  at  the  glove-counter,  and  I  cannot  very  well 
get  off." 

"We  will  take  your  friend,  also,"  said  Mrs.  Grantly, 
who,  like  other  feminine  conquerors,  was  delighted  to  have 
as  many  captives  as  possible  in  her  train. 

Mac  Tavish,  being  a  man  of  more  leisure  than  means,  was 
most  happy  to  spend  a  few  hours  in  attendance  on  the  ladies, 
who,  having  made  their  purchases,  and  had  sundry  insig- 
nificant conversations  with  various  acquaintances,  returned 
to  their  carriage,  sweeping  the  Broadway  dust  as  they 
passed  by,  and  turning  a  deaf  ear  upon  the  "Please  to  give 


106  HELEN  LEESON: 

me  a  penny"  of  the  little  street-cleaner.  We  are  wrong 
Helen  stopped  a  moment ;  but,  ashamed  of  her  hesitation, 
she  stepped  into  the  carriage. 

"  What  a  pity !"  thought  an  elderly  lady,  who  had  watched 
the  whole  proceeding.  "A  good  seed  choked  hy  the  briers 
of  worldly  influence  !"  and  Mrs.  Walker  not  only  gave  the 
child  a  few  pennies,  but,  taking  out  a  small  memorandum- 
book  from  her  pocket,  she  inquired  her  direction,  that  she 
might  provide  for,  and  perhaps  save,  the  little  one  from 
certain  ruin. 

"What  admirable  weather!  and  how  becoming  your  bon- 
net is,  Miss  Helen !"  said  Mar  veil,  who  knew  that  nothing 
prepares  the  way  to  an  agreeable  conversation  so  well  as  a 
little  offering  to  the  pride  of  the  fair  listener. 

Our  heroine,  however,  was  too  accustomed  to  such  adu- 
lation to  take  much  notice  of  it.  "Where  are  we  going, 
this  morning,  aunt  ?"  she  said,  merely  answering  Marvell's 
remark  with  a  smile. 

"  To  the  Coverleys,  to  congratulate  Miss  Olivia  upon  her 
engagement.  By-the-by,  who  is  that  Mr.  Dobbins?  I 
have  scarcely  met  him  in  society." 

"Oh!  a  very  good  parti,  I  am  told,"  answered  Marvell. 
"A  third  or  fourth  cousin,  who  returned  from  India,  a  few 
months  ago,  ten  years  older,  but  richer  by  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  Miss  Olivia  says  it  is  an  old  attachment." 

"  For  the  gentleman,  or  for  the  thousands  ?"  asked  Mac 
Tavish,  who  had  his  doubts  about  Miss  Coverley's  disin- 
terested feelings. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  continued  Marvell.  "  I  make  it 
a  point  never  to  inquire  into  such  matters.  It  is  safer,  I 
assure  you.  Ladies  are  so  impenetrable  to  the  naked  eye. 
Present  company  not  excepted,"  he  added,  laughing. 

"  Are  you  of  that  opinion,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  ?"  inquired 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         107 

Helen,  who  noticed  an  incredulous  wink  in  the  eye  of  the 
cunning  Scotchman. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  not ;  in  fact,  at  home,  in 
Scotland,  the  young  girls  had  a  great  dread  of  what  they 
called  my  microscopic  science.  Eric  was  too  wise  for 
any  comfort,  they  all  declared.  And,  I  assure  you,  it 
was  rather  a  disadvantage.  There  were  none  of  those 
pretty  little  airs  put  on  in  my  presence ;  and  that  is  one 
reason  why  I  gave  up  dancing  and  all  the  attributes  of  a 
beau." 

"  Now,  Mac  Tavish,  give  us  an  instance  of  your  boasted 
science,"  said  Marvell;  "of  course,  we  cannot  allow  you 
to  exercise  it  upon  Mrs.  Grantly;  but  perhaps  Miss 
Leeson  will  submit  to  your  mysterious  investigation  of  her 
thoughts." 

"  Most  willingly,"  answered  Helen,  quite  amused.  "  Do 
tell  me  something  of  myself,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  ?  I  confess 
my  knowledge  on  the  subject  is  very  limited." 

"  With  or  without  my  supernatural  sight,"  replied  the 
young  man,  "I  find  nothing  but  perfection.  One  thing 
only  strikes  me ;  that  is,  that  Miss  Leeson  has  never  been 
in  love." 

"  False  prophet !"  exclaimed  Harry,  while  Mrs.  Grantly 
laughed  heartily  at  Mac  Tavish;  s  want  of  discrimination. 

"  You  may  laugh,  you  may  call  me  ridiculous ;  but 
nothing  was  ever  more  true,"  continued  Eric.  "  Is  it  not 
so,  mademoiselle  ?" 

"  Indeed,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Helen,  blushing,  and 
annoyed  at  the  deep  glow  which  spoke  so  much  more  than 
it  meant. 

"Well,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish,  with  all  due  reverence  to  your 
superior  wisdom,  you  will  allow  us  to  remain  unbelievers 
until  we  test  it  further,"  said  Mrs.  Grantly,  smiling ;  and 

10 


108  HELEN  LEESON: 

as  the  carriage  stopped,  she  added,  "  What  a  file  of  car- 
riages at  the  Elvingtons  !  Quite  a  reception  !" 

The  ladies  and  their  escort  entered  a  spendid  mansion 
in  the  Fifth  Avenue. 

A  noisy  buzz  proceeded  from  the  parlour,  as  they  came 
nto  the  hall,  and  a  bevy  of  fine  ladies  and  bowing  gentle- 
men soon  surrounded  Helen  and  her  aunt. 

"  We  anticipate  such  a  delightful  evening  at  your  house 
to-morrow,  Miss  Leeson !"  said  Mrs.  Elvington,  an  accom- 
plished manoeuvrer,  who  had  already  settled  one  of  her 
daughters  in  great  style,  and  was  now  labouring  with  the 
same  aim  for  the  fair  Julia. 

"  I  hope  so,  dear  madam  ;  mamma  has  been  deprived  of 
seeing  her  friends  so  long,  that  she  will  be  most  happy  to 
receive  them  all." 

u  Will  not  the  countess  be  there?"  continued  Mrs. 
Elvington.  "It  would  be  such  a  treat  for  her  many 
admirers !" 

"  Laura  never  goes  out.  She  devotes  herself  entirely 
to  her  little  boy." 

Mrs.  Elvington  turned  around  to  receive  other  guests, 
and  Sydney  Morris  offered  his  arm  to  Miss  Leeson  to  walk 
into  the  back  parlour.  While  they  stood  partially  con- 
cealed by  the  draperies  of  the  folding-doors,  Helen  over- 
heard a  few  words  which  arrested  her  attention. 

"I  thought  Mrs.  Murray  would  have  been  here  this 
morning,  Mrs.  Seyton,"  said  Marvell. 

"  Have  you  not  heard  of  that  ridiculous  affair  which 
took  place  last  evening  between  Mr.  Murray  and  that  silly 
fellow,  Robert  Leeson?  The  poor  old  lady,  unfortu- 
nately, was  told  of  it,  and  she  is  distressed.  I  don't 
know  how  it  will  all  end,"  replied  the  little  widow,  some- 
what concerned. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         109 

At  that  moment,  Cora  Dalton,  who  was  leaning  on  Mac 
Tavish's  arm,  came  toward  them. 

"  Only  think,  Helen!  Mr.  Marvell  was  just  telling  me  of 
a  letter  he  received  from  Lord  Devere,  in  which  he  men- 
tions having  bought  a  beautiful  diamond  bracelet  he  des- 
tines to  the  future  Lady  Courtnay.  Some  Spanish  don, 
it  appears,  purchased  it  for  his  lordship.  That  would 
imply  the  gentleman  had  some  fixed  notions  on  the  subject." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Helen ;  and  the  answer  brough* 
the  same  telltale  blush  which  had  so  weakened  Mac  Ta- 
vish's pretensions  to  the  science  of  Lavater. 

"  I  know,"  continued  Cora  Dalton,  who  had  a  long  list 
of  disappointments  in  memory's  store,  from  which  she  drew 
her  powers  of  retaliation,  and  who  enjoyed  poor  Helen's 
annoyance.  However,  an  American  girl  who  has  been  out 
two  winters  possesses  too  many  weapons  to  be  unprotected 
against  such  attacks. 

"Mr  Mac  Tavish,"  interrupted  Miss  Leeson,  "have 
you  exercised  your  powers  as  a  physiognomist  over  Misa 
Dalton  ?  You  were  quite  successful  with  me,  just  now  !" 

"  Indeed?"  said  the  delighted  Eric ;  " I  knew  it  was  so. 
But  I  cannot  say  the  same  of  Miss  Dalton." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  inquired  the  puzzled  belle. 

"Oh,  nothing !"  responded  Helen,  with  indifference,  sa- 
tisfied with  the  slight  revenge  which  chance  had  afforded 
her,  "A  secret  of  little  importance,  was  it  not?" 

"Very  trifling!  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  to-morrow 
night,  Miss  Dalton,"  added  the  young  man,  anxious 
to  propitiate  the  lady  whose  uncle  gave  such  capital 
dinners. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  sweet  rose,  Miss  Leeson?" 
asked  Sydney  Morris,  as  the  offended  Cora  and  her  apolo- 
gizing beau  walked  off.  "Let  me  look  at  it.  Can  I  not 


110  HELEN  LEESON: 

keep  it  ?  I  will  send  you,  in  return,  the  finest  bouquet  in 
New  York." 

"All  Flora's  kingdom  would  not  purchase  that  flower, 
Mr.  Morris.  I  would  not  give  it  away  for  the  world  !" 

"  What  a  rebellious  spouse  you  would  make,  Miss  Helen !" 
said  Morris,  laughing.  "  Could  not  a  husband  obtain  so 
slight  a  favour?" 

"No  !"  answered  the  young  girl,  as  her  thoughts  for  one 
instant  reverted  to  her  mysterious  fate. 

"Where  were  you  all  this  time,  darling?"  said  Mrs. 
Grantly,  as  she  came  up  to  her  niece.  "  Do  you  know  wo 
have  been  here  an  hour  ?  and  we  shall  have  very  little  time 
left  to  finish  our  calls.  Mr.  Marvell,  can  I  still  depend 
upon  you  ?" 

"  Of  course,  dear  madam ;  but  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  requested 
me  to  be  the  bearer  of  his  apology,  as  he  has  been  obliged 
to  walk  home  with  Miss  Dalton." 

"Very  well,"  answered  the  lady.  "I  would  like  to  call 
on  Mrs.  Murray;  I  owe  her  a  visit." 

"  The  old  lady  is  not  well ;  and  besides,  she  has  a  recep- 
tion-day," said  Marvell.  "Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to 
go  there  another  time." 

Helen  understood  the  hint,  and  said,  "Mr.  Marvell  is 
right,  aunt.  It  would  be  more  polite  to  call  on  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray's reception-day;"  and  the  young  girl  was  sick  at  heart 
as  she  thought  of  her  brother's  danger.  In  fact,  the  vision 
had  haunted  her  since  the  preceding  evening ;  and  the  com- 
pany-smile which  hovered  on  her  lip  was  a  bitter  contrast 
to  the  aching  agitation  of  her  heart. 

The  visit  to  the  Coverleys  was  rather  uninteresting. 
Miss  Olivia  received  the  congratulations  of  her  friends  with 
becoming  grace.  The  wealthy  cousin,  who,  in  acquiring 
his  thousands,  had  also  imbibed  the  easy  manners  of  the 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         Ill 

East,  now  and  then  expressed  his  admiration  of  the  treasure 
about  to  be  bestowed  upon  him  in  an  elaborate  style,  most 
annoying  to  the  delicate  ears  of  the  girl  of  fashion.  What 
a  pity  Mac  Tavish  had  been  compelled  to  accompany  Miss 
Daltori !  He  would  have  enjoyed  the  visible  concern  of  the 
bride  elect,  and  perhaps  the  rather  ridiculous  appearance 
of  the  nabob,  who  sported  a  flashy  waistcoat,  very  similar 
to  the  one  upon  which  Marvell  had  passed  such  a  positive 
censure. 

"  Too  ridiculous !"  said  Mrs.  Grantly,  laughing  heartily, 
after  they  had  returned  to  the  carriage.  "  But  his  money 
will  set  it  all  right!"  added  the  worldly  woman.  "Now, 
let  me  see — we  must  go  to  the  Dorsays,  the  Morrisses — 
anywhere  else,  fair  lady?" 

"  You  owe  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Waring,  aunt." 

"  Oh  !  don't  talk  of  those  people  ! — a  passing  acquaint- 
ance, made  at  Saratoga !" 

"  Mrs.  Waring  is  a  perfect  lady — an  agreeable  woman," 
said  Helen. 

"  That  may  be,  but  she  does  not  visit  in  my  circle !  I 
don't  intend  to  invite  her  this  winter.  Why  not  drop  them 
at  once?" 

"Just  as  you  please.  Well,  then,  we  shall  have  time 
enough  to  call  on  the  Orlands.  You  know,  aunt,  they  are 
quite  reduced  in  their  circumstances,  and  would  appreciate 
any  little  attention,  I  am  sure.  At  one  time  they  stood 
very  high,  here ;  but  since  Mr.  Orland's  failure,  no  one 
seems  to  notice  those  ladies.  It  is  a  shame." 

"  Nonsense,  Helen  !  One  has  a  certain  amount  of  obli- 
gations to  fulfil  in  society,  beyond  which  one  need  not  be 
taxed.  These  people,  from  the  very  fact  of  their  being  no 
longer  in  their  former  position,  cannot  expect  a  share  of 
those  civilities  which  the  world  confers  upon  its  votaries. 

10* 


112  HELEN   LEESON  : 

I  am  very  willing  to  assist  them,  but  do  not  ask  me  to  waste 
my  valuable  time  in  visits  to  them.  I  know  they  would 
rather  not  see  me ;  it  would  only  remind  them  of  the  past, 
and  make  them  blush  at  their  actual  state.  Don't  you 
think  so,  Mr.  Marvell  ?" 

"Of  course,"  said  the  gentleman,  who  knew  full  well  that 
Mrs.  Grantly's  heart  was  inaccessible  to  such  sympathies. 

But  Helen  exclaimed,  "Oh,  aunt!  you  cannot  think  thus. 
Are  we  to  shun  those  from  whom  we  have  received  nought 
but  kindness  and  politeness,  because  it  is  no  longer  in  their 
power  to  bestow  them  ?  Should  we  not  rather  endeavour  to 
make  them  forget  the  sad  reverses  of  fortune,  by  proving  to 
them  that  we  are  unchanged  ?" 

"  All  very  fine,  my  dear  !"  said  the  lady.  "  But  the 
world  reasons  not  thus ;  it  is  a  spoiled  child,  who  will  not 
look  at  broken  toys,  which  have  ceased  to  afford  it  any 
amusement." 

"  Brava  !"  exclaimed  Marvell :  "  that  was  a  capital  com- 
parison." 

Consequently,  the  Warings  being  too  common  and  the 
Orlands  too  poor,  our  party  did  not  call  upon  them ;  but 
the  other  visits  filled  up  so  much  time,  that  it  was  five 
o'clock  and  quite  dark  when  Helen  stopped  at  her  father's 
door.  "  Good-evening,  my  dear !"  said  Mrs.  Grantly.  "  I 
will  carry  this  devoted  beau  home  with  me,  and  reward  him 
with  one  of  Morel's  good  dinners." 


A   PEEP  AT    NEW  YORK   SOCIETY.  113 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HELEN  intended  going  to  her  room  immediately,  to 
ascertain  the  result  of  Alice  Irving's  investigations,  but  as 
Jackson  opened  the  door,  Mrs.  Boget  came  up  to  her,  and 
said  in  a  hurried  whisper — 

"  Dinner  is  on  the  table,  dear  child,  and  your  father  has 
inquired  twice  about  you;  poor  madam  has  been  trying  to 
apologize  for  your  absence.  Let  me  take  your  bonnet  and 
cloak ;  go  right  in  to  dinner." 

Helen  did  not  dread  her  father's  ill  humour  on  her  own 
account,  but  she  knew  how  painful  it  was  to  the  dear  parent 
who  had  weathered  that  domestic  storm  so  long  and  so 
patiently.  Notwithstanding  her  anxiety  for  her  brother,  she 
complied  with  Boget's  request,  and  entered  the  dining-room 
with  a  bright  look,  hoping  to  divert  the  gathering  tempest 
which  was  very  visible  on  Mr.  Leeson's  contracted  brow. 

"  I  wish  you  would  make  it  a  point  to  be  ready  for  dinner, 
Helen,"  said  the  angry  father.  "I  have  been  obliged  to 
scold  everybody  to-day ;  every  thing  goes  wrong  in  this 
house,  no  one  attends  to  my  comfort,  and  you  all  spend  a 
mint  of  money." 

"  I  should  think  we  were  aware  of  these  facts,"  said  Ro- 
bert, who  was  seldom  willing  to  bear  the  anger  of  his  sire. 

"  I  did  not  ask  your  opinion  on  the  subject,  sir.  You 
were  wrong  to  give  it,  for  it  has  reminded  me  of  my  having 
paid  your  tailor  a  bill  of  two  hundred  dollars  this  morning ; 
and  I  declare  I  will  not  do  it  again." 


114  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Then  I  shall  have  to  use  my  credit ;  it  is  not  yet 
exhausted." 

"Robert,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson,  anxious  to  avoid  a  dis- 
cussion which  could  but  turn  against  the  young  man,  "  what 
have  you  done  with  those  beautiful  engravings  you  brought 
from  Paris?" 

"  I  gave  them  to  Cora  Dalton  :  in  fact  I  could  not  help 
it,  she  admired  them  so  much." 

"  What  business  have  you  to  make  presents,  when  you 
don't  pay  your  debts,  sir?"  interrupted  Mr.  Leeson.  "I 
have  heard  some  reports  about  you,  which  have  given  me 
considerable  annoyance.  If  you  don't  behave  more  like  a 
gentleman,  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  you,  and  you 
may  make  a  living  for  yourself." 

"Father,"  whispered  Anna,  "we  are  not  alone;  the  ser- 
vants might  overhear  you,  do  not  speak  thus,  for  Heaven's 
sake." 

"Nonsense,  child!  don't  I  know  what  I  have  to  do?" 
said  the  irritated  father,  as  Robert  rose,  and  dashing  his 
napkin  on  his  chair,  rushed  out  of  the  room. 

A  tear  glistened  in  the  mother's  eye,  but  not  one  word 
escaped  her  lips ;  she  knew  it  was  useless  to  reason  with  her 
husband  in  those  violent  moods. 

Of  course,  no  one  could  enjoy  that  boisterous  meal,  which 
was  ended  in  silence.  The  unjust  and  exasperated  man, 
meeting  with  no  more  opposition,  vented  his  ire  on  the  ser- 
vants, complained  of  every  thing,  and  finally  left  the 
house — a  welcome  relief  to  the  poor  victims  of  his  morbid 
temper. 

How  strange,  that  the  consciousness  of  our  own  errors 
should  make  us  so  harsh  to  the  innocent  ones  condemned 
to  hear  the  uncontrolled  expression  of  our  passions  ! 

"Mother,"  said  Anna,  "I  would  like  to  go  in  to  the 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YOPvK    SOCIETY.  115 

Irvings,  to  see  Mrs.  Walker  about  a  poor  girl  in  whom  she 
takes  an  interest.  Will  you  not  accompany  me?" 

"  Why  should  I  oblige  others  to  put  up  with  my  sad 
despondency?"  replied  Mrs.  Leeson,  as  she  sat  in  the 
drawing-room.  "But  you  had  better  go  in,  darling." 

"No,  not  without  you,  mother  dear.  Helen  said  she 
had  a  letter  to  write,  and  you  would  be  alone  down  here. 
I  can't  go  and  leave  my  own  Matilda,  when  she  has  nothing 
very  pleasant  to  think  over,"  added  the  amiable  girl  in  a 
merry  tone. 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  make  the  exertion.  I  like  kind  neigh- 
bour Irving  exceedingly,"  and  Sophie  was  summoned  for 
cloaks  and  hoods. 

The  tinkling  of  the  bell  had  brought  Alice  to  the  window. 

"What  news?"  asked  the  anxious  sister. 

"Not  very  good,"  answered  the  little  Quakeress;  "of 
course  I  could  not  inquire  in  a  direct  manner,  but  I  heard 
from  several  persons,  and  one  who  knows,  that  the  conver- 
sation between  the  two  gentlemen  had  considerably  aggra- 
vated matters ;  some  say,  Robert  insulted  Mr.  Murray  in 
the  grossest  manner.  I  only  repeat  what  I  heard,  Elly." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Helen ;  "  don't  conceal  any  thing  from 
me,  Alice,  for  Heaven's  sake  !" 

"Well,  it  appears  Mr.  Murray  has  sent  Robert  a 
challenge,  and  they  are  to  fight  a  duel  to-morrow  morn- 
ing ;  I  could  not  find  out  where,  nor  who  the  seconds 
would  be." 

"  Oh,  Lord !"  exclaimed  the  wretchei  girl,  "  what  shall 
I  do  ?  Alice,  have  you  not  thought  of  something  ?  I  have 
been  losing  all  this  day  in  useless,  sinful  vanity,  and  death 
may  be  ready  to  grasp  the  poor  boy." 

Helen's  tears  fell  fast,  but  her's  was  a  mind  too  rich, 
too  powerful  to  be  crushed  without  a  struggle. 


116  HELEN  LEESON: 

"Alice,"  she  said,  hurriedly,  "you  must  go  down  stairs. 
Mother  and  Anna  have  gone  in  to  see  you,  try  and  keep 
them  there  until  nine  o'clock.  I  will  go  immediately  to 
Herman  Smith;  he  is  the  only  one  who  can  save  Robert." 

"I  was  going  to  suggest  that,"  said  Alice;  "God  be  with 
you,  Elly!  farewell." 

Helen  put  on  her  dark  bonnet  and  cloak,  and  rang  for 
Mrs.  Boget.  In  five  minutes  she  had  explained  the  whole 
affair  to  the  good  seamstress,  who  became  at  once  a  most 
interested  auxiliary,  and  both  hastened  down  stairs. 

Herman  Smith  had  rooms  in  a  respectable  private  family 
in  Eighth  Street ;  and  although  Helen  had  never  been  there, 
she  knew  that,  with  Mrs.  Boget's  protection,  there  was 
scarcely  any  impropriety  in  her  taking  this  strange  step. 
In  fact,  even  if  there  had  been,  Helen  was  not  one  to  be 
deterred  in  a  holy  mission  by  the  shadow  of  the  world's 
censure.  The  idea,  the  hope  of  saving  her  brother  alone 
filled  her  mind;  and  to  accomplish  that  aim  her  energetic 
affection  would  have  overcome  difficulties  far  more  insur- 
mountable than  a  mere  dread  of  "  what  people  might  think." 
How  many  noble  deeds  have  been  arrested  on  the  wing  of 
fate  by  this  timorous  feeling  ! 

"I  must  go  up  with  you,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Boget,  as  they 
reached  Mr.  Smith's  residence.  "I  know  the  premises 
well,  for  I  spent  two  weeks  here  last  winter,  nursing  the 
poor  young  man  when  he  was  so  ill.  You  can  stay  in  the 
parlour  with  Mr.  Herman  while  I  wait  for  you  in  his  bed- 
room." 

"Mr.  Smith  is  not  at  home,"  was  the  answer  to  Mrs. 
Boget's  inquiry. 

"  Well,  we  will  go  up  and  wait  for  him." 

"We  would  like  to  speak  to  him  on  business,"  added 
Helen. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        117 

"Very  well,  ma'am.  The  gas  is  lighted  in  the  front 
room,  and  there's  a  good  fire." 

Helen  and  her  companion  went  up  to  Herman's  apart- 
ments, and  while  the  young  girl  sat  musing  over  the  sad 
circumstances  which  had  brought  her  there,  worthy  Mrs. 
Boget  discreetly  walked  into  the  back  room,  and,  having 
lighted  a  candle,  was  soon  absorbed  in  a  reverie  quite  aa 
gloomy  as  that  which  agitated  her  young  mistress. 

One  hour  had  elapsed ;  the  clock  struck  seven,  and  still 
Herman  did  not  come  home.  "  He  may  have  gone  to  a  din- 
ner-party," thought  Helen;  "he  probably  knows  nothing  of 
this  unfortunate  affair."  And  as  the  minute-hand  crept 
toward  eight  o'clock,  the  anxious  girl  was  almost  distracted 
with  dismal  presentiments.  She  rose  to  communicate  her 
fears  to  Boget,  but  at  that  moment  she  heard  a  man's  footstep, 
and  as  the  door  opened  she  came  forward,  exclaiming — 

"  Oh !  Herman,  at  last !"  But  what  was  her  dismay 
when  she  beheld,  instead  of  the  friend  of  her  childhood,  that 
same  unwelcome  one  whom  fate  seemed  to  throw  so  constantly 
in  her  path — Walter  Grey  ! 

The  young  man's  surprise  was  quite  as  great ;  he  paused 
and  allowed  Helen  to  retrace  her  steps  toward  the  chair 
she  had  just  occupied.  For  a  few  moments  both  were  silent. 
At  last,  feeling  that  her  situation  was  no  longer  bearable, 
Helen  said-  - 

' '  My  presence  here  must  surprise  you,  sir.  I  came  to 
sef  Mr.  Smith  on  my  brother's  account.  I  am  so  anxious 
abwit  him  !"  she  added,  quite  overcome. 

"  I  told  you  last  evening,  Miss  Leeson,  that  I  would  make 
every  effort  to  save  Robert,  and  could  you  not  place  that 
much  trust  in  my  devotion  ?  Oh  !  Helen,  I  see  it  too  well. 
Alas !  the  bitter  hatred  you  felt  toward  me  has  not  been 
tempered  bv  my  submissive  expiation." 


118  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  I  hate  no  one,"  murmured  the  young  girl. 

"Thank  you  for  those  words!"  he  answered:  and  then 
added,  in  a  nervous,  agitated  manner,  "  Miss  Leeson,  I  leave 
America,  my  home,  my  friends,  in  a  few  days,  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  ridding  you  of  the  consciousness  of  my  odious 
presence.  Mine  has  been  a  sad  life :  a  combination  of 
melancholy  circumstances  has  blighted  my  youth,  but  no 
disgrace  can  be  attached  to  my  name.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  religious  principles  which  my  poor  mother  instilled 
in  my  heart  at  an  early  age,  despair  might  have  prompted 
me  to  commit  an  act  which  would  soon  have  put  an  end  to 
my  mental  torture.  But  I  acknowledge  in  no  man  the 
power  to  take  the  life  which  God  has  given.  I  intend 
travelling  through  Europe  for  many  years,  and  will  never 
return  to  America.  Before  long,  circumstances  will,  I 
trust,  free  you  from  the  fetters  which  bind  you  to  my 
wretched  fate." 

Helen  sat  almost  heedless  of  the  young  man's  presence, 
her  face  concealed  in  her  hands.  Visions  of  the  past,  of 
the  future,  flittered  across  her  mind,  and  pity's  cry  was 
heard.  But  alas  !  pride — that  evil  cloud  which  had  hung 
over  her  whole  life — intercepted  the  brilliant  messenger 
Heaven  had  sent  to  soften  the  young  girl's  heart.  Even 
then,  she  thought  of  the  English  nobleman — his  wealth,  his 
rank.  Numberless  are  the  fabrics  fancy  can  erect  in  a  few 
short  seconds. 

" Helen,"  continued  Walter,  "will  you  let  me  depart 
thus,  without  a  look  of  mercy  ?" 

Boget  knocked  gently  at  the  door. 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  the  young  girl,  "  nine  o'clock — I  must 
go."  Then,  turning  to  Walter,  she  added,  "I  may  forgive 
at  some  future  period,  but  I  never  can  forget;  farewell !" 
And  she  hastened  out  of  the  room  to  conceal  her  emotion. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         119 

"  Heartless  woman  !"  he  cried.  "  Oh !  when  I  give  up 
my  home,  my  all,  nay  would  lay  down  my  life  this  instant 
for  her,  she  cannot  say  one  word  of  pity.  They  are  all, 
all  false,  save  the  blessed  one  in  heaven  !"  As  he  spoke, 
Walter's  eye  rested  upon  the  faded  rosebud  which  had  fallen 
from  Helen's  sash;  he  hesitated — then  picking  it  up,  he 
pressed  it  to  his  lips.  "  Oh  !  it  has  drooped  on  her  heart," 
he  said ;  "  that  heart  which  should  be  mine.  Helen !  my  love, 
my  own  !" — and  the  burning  tears  fell  on  the  flower  which 
that  very  morning  had  been  moistened  by  the  pearly  drops 
Anna's  eloquent  and  soothing  words  had  called  forth. 

Strange  communion  between  the  husband  and  wife  ! 

Helen  hastened  home  with  Boget,  a  thousand  times  more 
unhappy  than  when  she  left  it. 

Alice  had  gone  up  twice  to  the  window,  to  ascertain 
whether  her  friend  had  returned;  and,  anxious  and  con- 
cerned, she  had  contrived  to  keep  Mrs.  Leeson  and  Anna 
until  half-past  nine.  Helen  and  Boget  had  just  got  home, 
when  they  came  in,  unconscious  of  their  absence. 

After  telling  the  kind  little  neighbour  that  she  had 
been  unsuccessful,  Helen  knelt  to  pray — to  try  Anna's  all- 
powerful  remedy.  But  nothing  could  calm  her  troubled 
spirit,  and  eleven  o'clock  found  her  still  at  the  task. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Boget  ?"  she  exclaimed,  as  the 
good  woman  came  in  with  a  look  of  deep  concern. 

"A  note,  Miss  Helen;  Mr.  Smith  sent  it  this  minute,  to 
be  delivered  immediately." 

With  a  trembling  hand,  the  sister  opened  Herman's  note. 
It  ran  thus : 
MY  DEAR  Miss  HELEN: 

I  regretted  not  being  at  home  when  you  called.  Be 
perfectly  easy :  Robert's  foolish  conduct  has  been  repaired 
by  the  judicious  interference  of  Mr.  Grey.  Your  brother 

11 


120  HELEN  LEESON: 

owes  him  his  life,  for  George  Murray  is  not  a  man  to  be 
trifled  with.     Good-night.     I  will  explain  all  to-inorrow. 
Truly  yours,  H.  SMITH. 

"It  is  all  arranged,  Boget !"  exclaimed  Helen,  joyfully. 
"  Now  go  to  bed,  for  we  both  need  sleep." 

And  did  the  exhausted  girl  lay  down  to  rest  ?  No  ;  she 
knelt  in  fulness  of  heart  to  the  heavenly  Father  who  had 
rescued  the  dear  one.  And  as  she  rose  from  that  long 
meditation,  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh  Lord  !  and  am  I  doomed 
to  owe  him  such  a  debt  of  gratitude?  He  has  saved 
Robert,  and  I  was  unmerciful !" 


A    PEEP   AT    NEvV    YORK    SOCIETY.  121 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  SLEEP,  image  of  thy  father!  sleep,  my  boy!"  mur- 
mured the  young  countess. 

Little  Arthur  was  taking  his  usual  nap  in  his  mother's 
room,  and  Laura  sat  near  the  sleeping  boy  with  tearful 
eyes.  She  gently  parted  the  bright  curls  on  the  fair 
brow ;  and  as  they  fell  in  golden  streams  upon  the  dark 
velvet  cushion,  she  watched  the  closed  eyelids,  the  heavy 
lashes,  and  the  quivering  smile  which  now  and  then  bright- 
ened the  placid  countenance.  There  was  intense  sorrow 
in  the  gaze — it  told  a  fearful  tale  of  suffering,  Poor 
flower  !  blighted  by  the  storm  of  life !  Thy  joys  have 
been  scattered  to  the  winds  like  the  roseate  petals  of  the 
May  bud  ! 

"  Oh,  Arthur,  I  cannot  live  without  thee  !  My  only 
love  !"  whispered  the  young  widow.  "  The  world  is  dark 
and  gloomy!  Why  didst  thou  leave  me  here  alone?" 
And  the  drooping  head  fell  on  the  pillow  near  the  little 
sleeper. 

"  Mother,  mother  dear,  speak  to  your  pet !  Look  up, 
mamma  !"  said  the  child,  as  he  awoke. 

She  answered  not,  but  folded  him  passionately  to  her 
bosom. 

"  Tears  in  my  pretty  eyes  !"  said  little  Arthur,  as  he 
wiped  the  burning  drops  with  his  sleeve.  '"  No  ;  Arty 
won't  kiss  mamma,  if  she  cries  !  He  will  love  Nina  better," 


122  HELEN    LEESOX: 

ne  added,  with  a  cunning  look,  while  Laura  smiled  through 
her  tears,  and  said — 

"  Will  you  lie  down  again,  sweet  ?  or  will  you  sleep  on 
my  lap?" 

"No;  Arty  is  a  man !"  he  answered,  standing  upright 
with  all  the  majestic  dignity  of  his  noble  race.  "  He  will 
be  like  papa — a  big  man,  and  go  to  see  him  one  of  these 
days.  Why  does  he  not  live  here  with  us  ?" 

"  He  is  there,"  responded  the  countess,  as  she  took  up 
the  little  one  in  her  arms  and  carried  him  to  the  window. 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  day,  and  the  rays  of  the  winter 
sun  shone  in  full  on  the  mother  and  her  boy. 

"Up  there?"  he  asked,  as  his  eye  followed  Laura's  fin- 
ger. "  So  far?  And  will  I  go  there  soon  ?" 

"We  will  both  be  there  one  day,  I  trust,  my  darling; 
but  Arty  must  be  good,  and  mind  mamma  and  Aunt  Seraph, 
and  then  papa  will  love  his  boy,  and  God  will  call  us  to 
him  in  his  beautiful  paradise!" 

"  Are  there  trees  and  flowers,  and.  no  poor  people,  up 
there,  mother?" 

"  I  think  so,  dearest.  But  here  is  Nina.  She  wants 
Arthur  to  go  and  take  a  walk  with  her,  and  call  to  see 
Cousin  Anna,  who  loves  her  Naples  boy  so  well,"  said  the 
young  countess. 

"  Yes,  Arty  will  go  and  see  the  birds,  and  Anna  will  tell 
me  about  the  poor  boy  who  was  so  cold,"  added  the  little 
fellow,  running  to  his  nurse. 

Laura's  eyes  followed  the  child,  who  stood  for  a  moment 
at  the  door,  kissing  his  hand  in  farewell,  and  then  she  threw 
herself  on  the  couch,  quite  exhausted.  Alas !  alas !  ths 
hereditary  disease  was  doing  its  work  of  destruction. 

"  Are  you  busy,  or  going  to  take  a  nap,  Laura?"  asked 
Alice  Irving,  as  she  came  in  very  softly. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         123 

"  Neither,  dearest ;  and  I  am  most  happy  to  see  you. 
This  is  one  of  my  bad  days,  and  Arty  has  been  trying  to 
Bmile  away  the  evil  visions  which  now  and  then  crush  me 
completely." 

"Now,  don't  rise,"  said  Alice;  "I  will  sit  near  you.  I 
came  for  a  little  chat.  I,  too,  have  had  the  blues  most  ter- 
ribly of  late,  and  I  cannot  stand  them — so  wearing,  so  ex- 
cruciating !" 

"You  !  dear  child  ?  You,  the  very  picture  of  happiness  ? 
How  can  that  be  ?  Tell  me,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 
Was  it  your  aunt's  unpropitious  appearance,  the  other  night, 
which  distressed  you  so  much?" 

"  Oh,  no  ! — worse — a  thousand  times  worse  than  that ! 
Would  that  I  had  followed  Aunt  Martha's  advice  ! — that  I 
had  never  sought  the  society  of  the  gay.  But  I  cannot  live 
like  a  nun.  I  must  talk,  I  must  laugh.  Can  the  bee  live 
without  sunshine  and  flowers?" 

"Alas,  no  !"  answered  Laura.  "  Happiness  and  the  joys 
of  the  heart  are  as  essential  to  our  being  as  the  bright  beams 
of  the  sun." 

"  But  those  rays  of  love  are  scorching,  sometimes,  Laura. 
I  have  played  with  the  fire,  and  it  has  consumed  my  com- 
fort, my  cheerfulness,  my  all !" 

"  Don't  say  so,  Alice  !  You  are  but  a  child,  without  ex- 
perience. Let  me  be  your  Mentor.  I  have  no  interest  in 
this  world  but  the  welfare  of  those  I  love,  and  you  are  one 
of  the  chosen  ones." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  little  Quakeress ;  "  but  I  dare  not 
acknowledge  my  folly  to  you,  Laura ;  and  still,  I  came  on 
purpose  to  do  so." 

"Alice,  you  are  in  love,  and  I  know  with  whom,"  ex 
claimed  the  countess,  with  an  expression  of  joy. 

"Why  do  you  smile  and  look  so  happy?"  said  the  blush- 

n* 


124  HELEN  LEESON: 

ing  girl.  "  You  cannot  approve  of  my  choice ;  I  fear  lie  is 
unworthy  of  me." 

"  He  may  be  corrected — affection  will  accomplish  much," 
added  the  young  widow,  who  remembered  the  happy  change 
effected  in  her  own  wild  and  boisterous  nature  by  the  be- 
nignant influence  of  her  husband. 

"  No,  Laura,  it  can  never  be ;  and  I  told  him  so,  when 
lie  urged  me  to  leave  my  father's  house  and  be  married  to 
him  secretly." 

"  Impossible  !  Robert  never  could  have  proposed  such 
a  thing !" 

"  Robert !  I  am  not  speaking  of  him,  Laura.  Oh,  no  ! 
It  is  Allan  Dorsay." 

"Allan  Dorsay!  Alice,  is  it  possible  you  could  have 
been  so  imprudent  ?  You  have  not,  I  hope,  engaged  your- 
self to  him?" 

"  No,  no !  but  I  promised  to  do  so  in  a  few  days,  and 
partially  consented  to  run  away  with  him." 

"  Kneel  down,  dearest,  and  thank  the  heavenly  Father 
•who  has  spared  you  this  trial !  He  is  unworthy  of  you — a 
dissipated,  idle  fellow,  of  no  standing  at  all.  Why  did  you 
not  consult  your  mother — your  aunt?" 

"I  am  afraid  of  aunt,"  answered  the  sobbing  girl,  "and 
mother  knows  nothing  of  those  matters.  But  you  may  be 
mistaken,  Laura.  He  promised  so  solemnly  to  be  kind  and 
devoted ;  and — and — I  am  attached  to  him — I  cannot  give 
him  up." 

"  Then  you  are  engaged  to  Mr.  Dorsay  ?"  said  her  friend, 
with  sadness.  "  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  think  lightly 
of  such  promises ;  but  better,  far  better,  would  it  be  for 
you  to  die  now,  than  become  the  wife  of  that  man !  Let 
me  see,"  added  Laura,  pensively;  "I  think  I  can  give  you 
a  positive  proof  of  Mr.  Dorsay 's  being  unworthy  of  you." 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        125 

"Oh!  don't,  don't!"  said  the  agitated  girl.  "I  would 
rather  never  know  it !" 

"Well,  just  as  you  like.  But  remember  my  warning  to 
you,  and  break  off  immediately  with  Allan  Dorsay." 

"I  cannot,  indeed!" 

"Alice,  will  you  promise  me  not  to  see  him  before  to-mor- 
row night  ?  If  you  have  not  been  convinced  of  what  I  tell 
you  by  that  time,  I  leave  you  to  your  fate.  Now,  dry  your 
tears,  dearest.  It  is  almost  twelve  o'clock.  The  bell  will 
soon  ring  for  lunch,  and  it  Avill  give  aunt  so  much  pleasure 
to  have  your  company.  Ah !  Arthur,  pet,  quite  ready  ? 
Come  and  show  your  finery  to  Alice." 

The  little  fellow  walked  in  with  his  velvet  coat  trimmed 
with  ermine,  the  golden  locks  escaping  from  the  little  vel- 
vet cap,  and  falling  upon  his  shoulders.  "Fine,  friend 
Ally?"  inquired  the  noble  boy. 

"  Very  fine,  darling !  And  what  have  you  got  in  your 
hand?" 

"  A  penny  for  the  sick  boy,  whose  prayers  will  take  me 
to  papa !"  answered  the  child,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"Are  those  mamma's  black  diamonds?"  said  Aunt 
Seraph,  who  came  in  at  that  moment,  and  caught  up  the 
little  idol  in  her  arms.  "  And  where  is  my  boy's  cane,  with 
the  gold  head,  Nina  ?" 

"  Here,  here  !  Tasso  has  it !"  he  exclaimed,  as  an  im- 
mense Newfoundland  came  bounding  in,  carrying  the  little 
fellow's  favourite  toy. 

"  Now  go,  dearest.  Nina  and  Tasso  will  take  care  of 
you ;"  and  with  another  kiss  Laura  dismissed  the  child,  who 
went  off  in  great  glee,  followed  by  his  faithful  Nina  and 
the  no  less  devoted  dog. 

"Now,  ladies,"  said  Aunt  Seraph,  "I  claim  your  pre- 
sence in  my  room.  Levett  has  superintended  the  baking 


126  HELEN  LEESON: 

of  some  muffins,  which  I  can  answer  for.  Alice,"  con- 
tinued the  kind  old  lady,  "  why  that  dejected  look  ?  I 
don't  like  it !  It  is  quite  bad  enough  to  see  the  dark  cloud 
on  this  dear  face,"  she  added,  turning  to  Laura. 

"  Have  you  positively  decided  upon  not  going  to  Aunt 
Leeson's  to-night  ?"  asked  the  countess. 

"  Of  course  !  I  would  cut  a  forlorn  figure,  there.  As 
long  as  you  stay  at  home,  I  have  no  inducement  for  the  sa- 
crifice it  certainly  would  cost  me.  I  wish  you  could  go, 
Alice." 

"  I  would  like  to,  very  much,  hut  you  know  that  is  quite 
impossible." 

"Well,  I  would  not  give  it  a  thought,"  said  Laura. 
"  We  will  go  and  see  Helen  dressed,  and  I  am  sure  no  one 
can  eclipse  her." 

"  Take  a  seat,  ladies,  here,  on  this  comfortable  couch, 
and  pay  due  homage  to  these  delicacies,"  said  Miss  Marsy. 
"  This  is  my  favourite  meal,  but  I  do  like  it  so  much  better 
with  agreeable  company.  The  bell!  Out,  Laura?" 

"Engaged:  I  prefer  the  truth  at  all  times.  I  wish  it 
was  Emma — the  dear  child  has  not  been  here  for  so 
long." 

"  Here  she  is,"  exclaimed  Aunt  Seraph. 

"You  must  have  been  informed  of  my  great  desire  to 
see  you  by  some  mysterious  spirit,"  continued  Laura,  rising 
to  kiss  her  friend.  "Now  our  fourth  seat  is  occupied,  and 
the  muffins  are  perfection  ;  don't  you  think  so,  Alice  ?" 

A  shade  still  hung  over  the  bright  countenance  of  the 
little  Quakeress. 

"And  what  news  of  the  gay  world  do  you  bring  us,  fair 
lady?"  asked  Miss  Marsy. 

"  Have  you  not  heard  what  happened  to  Robert  two 
nights  ago,  as  we  were  leaving  the  opera  ?  It  is  the  town 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         127 

talk,  and  I  very  foolishly  stumbled  upon  the  person  most 
interested  just  now.  Awkward  it  would  have  been  if  the 
lady  were  not  such  a  sweet,  charming  woman."  Emma 
then  related  what  had  taken  place,  adding — "  Not  knowing 
any  thing  of  this  ridiculous  affair,  and  anxious  to  have  Mrs. 
Murray  to  spend  the  evening  with  us,  in  a  few  days,  to 
meet  some  literary  gentlemen,  I  called  there  about  an  hour 
ago.  The  old  lady  was  sitting  in  her  boudoir,  and  received 
me  with  her  usual  kindness,  seeing  at  once,  I  suppose,  that 
I  knew  nothing  of  the  matter  which  caused  her  so  much 
annoyance — nay,  anxiety.  And  as  I  apologized  for  calling 
at  such  an  early  hour,  and  explained  the  object  of  my  visit, 
she  answed  with  tearful  eyes — '  I  don't  really  know  whether 
I  shall  be  able  to  accept  your  invitation.  I  have  been  in  such 
a  state  of  excitement  about  my  son,  that  it  has  made  me  quite 
miserable.  But  it  is  all  settled,  thank  God  !  I  regretted 
this  silly  affair  so  much,  feeling  great  interest  in  Miss  Lee- 
son  and  her  family.  Miss  Marsy,'  she  added,  'is  an  old 
friend  of  mine  ;  we  are  contemporaries,  but,  unfortunately, 
have  lost  sight  of  each  other  of  late.'  ' 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Aunt  Seraph,  "there  is  not  a  finer, 
a  better  woman  in  the  world  than  Mrs.  Murray.  Few 
have  been  more  unfortunate !  She  lost  her  husband  and 
several  children  many  years  ago,  and  is  devoted  to  her  son 
George.  She  is  one  of  the  few  for  whom  I  would  make 
the  exertion  of  going  into  society." 

"  Will  you  not  come  to  our  house  on  Tuesday,  to  meet 
her?"  asked  Emma. 

"  No,  dear,  I  am  wedded  to  this  old  place  and  to  thia 
lazy  child  of  mine,"  continued  the  kind  friend. 

"  Alice,  you  can  come  ;  can't  you  ?  Such  a  very  small 
party.  Not  more  than  twelve  altogether.  No  fashionable 
beaux,"  said  Miss  Grantly. 


128  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Oh,  no !  I  am  going  with  Aunt  Martha  to  hear  a  lec- 
ture on  metaphysics." 

"Nonsense!"  said  Einma,  laughing.  "I  will  answer  for 
your  deriving  more  real  benefit  from  the  conversation  of 
Professor  Amory  and  M.  de  Cerny  than  from  your  scien- 
tific lecture ;  not  that  I  wish  to  deprecate  the  study  of  that 
power  of  our  mind,  but  I  don't  think  your  genius  runs  in 
that  direction.  By-the-by,  what  possessed  you  to  walk 
with  that  stupid  Allen  Dorsay,  yesterday,  Ally  ?  Is  he  to 
be  your  escort  on  the  night  of  the  lecture  ?" 

The  poor  girl  blushed  deeply,  but  Emma  was  unmerciful, 
and  continued — 

"  A  silly  fellow,  who  flirts  with  all  the  girls,  and  makes 
fools  of  so  many !  Why,  you  have  more  wit  in  your 
little  finger  than  Mr.  Dorsay  in  all  his  insignificant 
person." 

"  How  cruel  you  are,  this  morning,  Emma.!"  said  Aunt 
Seraph,  who,  of  all  things,  dreaded  annoying  others.  She 
knew  not  that  energetic  devotion  which  never  recoils  from 
struggle  to  benefit  the  loved  one.  This  both  Laura  and 
Emma  felt  toward  Alice. 

"Why,  Emma!"  at  last  said  the  crestfallen  girl;  "one 
would  think,  to  hear  you  talk,  that  I  was  going  to  marry 
Mr.  Dorsay." 

"  God  forbid  !  I  never  would  speak  to  you  again.  But," 
she  continued,  rising,  "although  your  society  is  most  agree- 
able, ladies,  I  must  hurry  home  ;  I  have  many  little  things 
to  prepare  for  this  evening.  I  suppose  we  will  have  a  crowd 
at  Mrs.  Leeson's,  and  enough  supper  for  five  hundred  more 
than  will  be  there.  Were  people  as  ridiculous  in  your  time, 
Miss  Marsy?" 

"Not  exactly;  we  were  less  ambitious  and  happier. 
All  the  brilliancy  of  this  generation  seems  to  weigh  so 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         129 

heavily  upon  it,  there  are  no  young  and  light  hearts  now- 
a-days — you  are  all  prematurely  old." 

"True,"  said  Laura;  "and  the  consequence  is,  I  fear, 
that  few  are  wise.  Now,  Ernma,  do  come  soon  again — you 
pay  us  such  flying  visits,  and  make  us  wish  for  more. 
Your's  is  such  a  bright  spirit — one  which  confers  so  much 
pleasure  upon  all." 

"My  dear  countess,"  interrupted  the  sweet  girl,  "you 
will  increase  my  organ  of  vanity  so  considerably,  that  I 
will  have  to  alter  the  shape  of  my  bonnet !  Now  don't, 
pray  !  Nature  has  forbidden  me  that  feminine  gratifica- 
tion, and  I  am  most  submissive  to  the  old  dame's  injunc- 
tions. Farewell,  Aunt  Seraph !  Alice,  let  not  your 
bright  eyes  be  dimmed  by  my  joke  just  now,  but  please 
shake  off  Mr.  Dorsay's  counterfeit  admiration  as  soon  as 
possible.  Farewell,  all !" 

Soon  after,  Alice  Irving  took  leave  of  her  friends,  pro- 
mising to  meet  them  that  evening  at  Mrs.  Leeson's. 


130  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ALL  the  arrangements  were  made  in  the  splendid  resi- 
dence of  Robert  Leeson,  Esq.,  for  the  reception  of  his 
many  friends. 

"Friends!"  murmured  the  host,  as  he  paced  his  gorgeous 
saloons  alone,  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock.  "Friends!" 
he  repeated,  with  a  bitterness  of  expression  ill  suited  to 
the  brilliant  display  which  surrounded  the  solitary  man. 
"  Not  one  of  them  would  lend  me  five  hundred .  dollars, 
and  here  I  am  lavishing  my  last  thousands  upon  them  ! 
Yes.  my  last !  and  then  ruin  will  follow — disgrace,  con- 
tempt, and  pity  !  Oh  !  any  thing  but  that !"  he  added,  as 
he  shook  his  clenched  fist.  At  that  moment,  his  eye  fell 
upon  a  mirror,  which  reflected  lifelike  every  feature  of  that 
distorted  countenance.  The  unfortunate  man  dropped  on 
a  chair,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"  "Wretch,  wretch  that  I  am  !  Oh !  I  deserve  it  all  ! 
The  cry  of  vengeance  rings  in  my  ears  !  But  I  shall  not 
live  to  see  the  awful  consequences  of  my  folly — the  ruin  of 
my  family  !  There  is  here  within  this  torn  breast  a  gnaw- 
ing tormentor  which  will  soon  destroy  it !  Yes,  soon  !  Ter- 
rific mockery  !"  he  added,  as  he  glanced  at  all  the  magnifi- 
cence which  his  own  pride  had  accumulated  around  him. 

While  this  mental  tragedy  was  enacting  in  those  splen- 
did saloons,  Helen,  nervous,  wearied  by  her  excitement  of 
the  preceding  evening,  was  finishing  her  toilet ;  and  a  bitter 
§mile  hovered  on  her  lips  when  Anna  exclaimed — 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  131 

"  Oh,  what  a  pity  Lord  Devere  did  not  return  before 
our  ball !  This  is  the  most  becoming  dress  you  have  worn 
this  winter !"  It  was  one  of  those  marvellous  productions 
composed  of  blue  tulle  and  bluebells  which  emanate 
from  the  prolific  fancy  of  a  French  couturie're,  and  gra- 
tified would  have  been  the  artist  co«ld  she  have  seen  the 
exquisite  result  of  her  exertions. 

Unconscious,  heedless  of  all,  Helen  stood,  allowing  So- 
phie to  arrange  th^  flowers  and  draperies  as  she  chose. 

"  Ah  !  here  are  Alice  and  Laura !"  exclaimed  Anna. 
"  Welcome,  ladies  !  come  and  give  a  little  animation  to  thia 
beautiful  statue.  Who  would  think  that  our  Helen  was  the 
belle  of  New  York,  and  about  to  become  Lady  Courtnay  ?" 

"Nonsense  !"  said  Laura.  "  The  belle  of  New  York,  as 
you  call  this  lady,  Anna,  is  bound  to  bestow  her  smiles 
upon  an  American  ;  and  besides,  poor  Cora  Dalton  would 
die  of  disappointment,  if  his  lordship  became  our  cousin — 
that  would  be  terrible  !" 

Helen's  toilet  being  finished,  she  sat  down  and  dismissed 
Sophie. 

"Now,  girls,"  she  said,  "would  you  not  like  to  see  a 
little  of  the  comedy  in  which  we  are  going  to  act  a  part 
tli is  evening  ?  Some  call  it  a  farce — it  is  often  a  tragedy. 
Well,  no  matter;  it  is  worth  seeing,  I  dare  say,  and  I 
would  advise  you  to  take  a  seat  on  the  back  piazza,  which 
is  heated  by  the  furnace,  and  quite  close  ;  you  will  be  en- 
tirely concealed.  I  wish  I  could  join  you,  instead  of  play 
it  g  the  agreeable  in  the  parlour." 

"  I  accept  your  invitation  to  be  a  spectator  this  even 
ing,"  said  the  young  countess.     "Alice  and  I  will  be  quite 
amused,  I  dare  say.    Anna,  do  you  feel  inclined  to  share 
the  fun?" 

"  No,  not  to-night ;  I  am  tired.     I  have  been  spending 

12 


132  HELEN  LEESON: 

all  the  afternoon  entertaining  Jane  Kelly,  who  i*  fast  de 
dining,  poor  old  soul.     I  am  going  to  bed." 

"  What  a  beautiful  bouquet !"  said  Alice.  "  And  here  is 
another.  Who  are  they  from  ?" 

"Allan  Dorsay  and  Sydney  Morris,"  answered  Helen, 
with  indifference.  "  Ladies,  good-night ;  it  is  ten  o'clock. 
How  absurd  to  begin  the  evening  when  nature  almost 
closes  it!  Every  thing  is  reversed  in  this  sad  world!" 
she  added,  as  she  left  the  room.  On  tlje  stairs,  she  met 
Robert,  who  was  going  up  to  Anna,  to  have  a  button  sewed 
on  his  glove. 

"  Brother,"  she  whispered,  "  how  did  you  settle  your 
difficulty  the  other  night?" 

"  Oh  !  very  well,  indeed  ;  but  Walter  did  it  all — the 
finest  fellow  !  One  of  these  days  I  will  tell  you  how  much 
I  am  indebted  to  him." 

Helen  hastened  down  stairs,  and  entered  the  drawing- 
room. 

Mr.  Leeson,  still  absorbed  in  his  racking  meditation,  sat 
with  his  back  toward  the  door.  He  heard  not  his  daugh- 
ter's noiseless  step. 

"  Father,"  murmured  the  young  girl,  as  she  noticed 
the  complete  abstraction  of  the  wretched  man,  "  are  you 
ill  ?" 

"  Helen !  my  own,  my  precious  child  !"  he  exclaimed, 
as  he  started  and  gazed  with  undisguised  admiration  on  the 
lovely  girl.  It  seemed  as  though  a  bright  star  had  risen 
upon  the  dismal  horizon  of  his  thoughts.  But  in  one  in- 
stant the  approaching  ruin  of  his  fortune,  the  agony  it 
would  bring  to  the  loved  one,  rushed  upon  his  mind,  and 
he  turned  from  the  brilliant  vision  in  despair. 

Accustomed  to  these  inexplicable  shades  in  her  father's 
disposition,  Helen  felt  no  unusual  concern,  but  walked  into 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  133 

the  adjoining  parlour  to  suggest  some  little  arrangements 
to  her  mother,  who,  exhausted  and  wearied,  sat  lamenting, 
as  she  often  had  done,  the  useless  expenditure  her  hus- 
band's proud  wish  had  incurred. 

"  Well,"  said  Helen,  as  for  a  moment  she  kneeled  be- 
fore the  tender  parent,  "  if  all  thos£  who  give  balls  pre- 
pare for  them  as  we  do,  it  is  a  bitter  farce.  Father  looks 
despair  itself;  you,  dearest,  not  much  better;  and  I,"  she 
added  mentally,  "  a  thousand  times  worse  !" 

"  It  all  proceeds  from  one  cause,"  said  Mrs.  Leeson — "  a 
bad  beginning.  At  the  dawn  of  one's  married  life,  if  the 
light  of  wisdom  was  sought  to  illuminate  the  path  of  duty, 
the  evils  we  now  stumble  upon,  and  which  crush  so  many, 
might  be  avoided.  Never  forget  that,  darling,  and — oh ! 
the  bell !  It  will  take  me  five  minutes  to  put  on  my  com- 
pany smile  !  Alas !  care  stiffens  our  features  more  than 
myriads  of  Avrinkles,  and  the  heart  becomes  chilled  against 
the  contact  of  society  !" 

"Amen  !"  muttered  the  young  girl,  as  she  turned  with 
a  smile  to  welcome  Mrs.  Waring,  who,  not  being  exceed- 
ingly fashionable,  was  rather  more  rational  than  the  other 
members  of  Mrs.  Leeson's  circle,  and  came  earlier. 

Miss  Augusta  Waring  was  a  fine,  showy  girl,  neither 
more  nor  less  well  educated  than  many  of  our  young 
friends,  who,  having  taken  a  desperate  leap  from  the  super- 
ficial studies  of  a  school-room  to  the  life  of  dissipation 
which  they  all  lead,  could  scarcely  be  expected  to  possess 
a  very  large  amount  of  knowledge.  But  Miss  Augusta 
was  bright,  intelligent,  very  pretty  ;  and  the  wealth  of  her 
papa  was  so  brilliant  a  screen  to  conceal  the  deficiencies 
in  her  conversation,  that  few  of  her  numerous  admirers 
were  even  aware  of  them. 

"  Beautiful !"  said  the  young  lady,  as  Robert  led  her 


134  HELEN  LEESON: 

into  the  library,  to  show  her  some  exquisite  little  statuettes 
by  Dantan. 

"  By  whom,  did  you  say  ?" 

"Dantan,"  repeated  the  young  man,  "a  French  artist." 

"  I  admire  them  exceedingly !"  replied  Miss  Augusta ; 
"but  this  is  much  handsomer,"  she  added,  pointing  to  a 
gaudy  nick-nack. 

"  Oh,  Robert !  let  me  see  those  little  gems  !"  said  Emma 
Grantly.  "Do  look,  Mr.  Smith;  is  it  not  nature  itself? 
So  perfect !  What  an  enviable  talent,  to  be  able  to  give 
animation  to  this  morsel  of  clay !" 

"I  hear  the  music,  Mr.  Leeson!"  interrupted  Miss  Wa- 
ring. "Am  I  engaged  to  you  for  the  first  or  second 
polka?"  and  she  tripped  off  to  the  dancing-room,  while 
Emma  and  Herman  were  still  in  contemplation  of  the  ad- 
mirable little  personifications  of  Victor  Hugo  and  Fanny 
Elsler.  Every  one  to  his  taste  ! 

So  thought  the  fascinating  Mrs.  Seyton,  as  she  stood 
surrounded  by  a  bevy  of  beaux,  to  each  of  whom  she  ad- 
dressed a  look  or  a  word,  which  kept  them  spell- bound 
around  her.  There  was  a  mysterious  power  in  the  winning 
airs  of  the  young  widow  which  few  could  resist.  Even  the 
rational  ones,  such  as  George  Murray,  (who,  by-the-by, 
had  a  previous  engagement,  that  evening,)  were  captivated 
by  the  sparkling  wit  and  grace  of  the  fair  siren.  But  wit, 
they  say,  is  a  dangerous  gift,  if  not  submitted  to  the  chas- 
tening rod  of  Christian  Charity ;  and  as  the  modest  sister 
of  Hope  and  Faith  seldom  ventures  in  the  splendid  saloons 
of  fashion,  Mrs.  Seyton  was  accused  by  many  of  not  being 
over-intimate  with  her.  In  short,  she  was  called  satirical. 

"Quel  melange!"  whispered  the  lady  to  our  friend 
Mac  Tavish,  as  she  cast  a  contemptuous  glance  upon  the 
fair  Augusta,  and  two  or  three  others,  whom  she  considered 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  135 

intruders  in  that  brilliant  galaxy.     "  I  have  a  perfect  hor- 
ror of  amalgamation !" 

"  That  depends  considerably  upon  the  ingredients  !"  re- 
plied the  young  Scotchman,  smiling. 

"No,  I  don't  admit  that.  Oh!  do  look  at  poor  Olivia 
and  her  tall  cousin !  What  a  frown  of  care  upon  her 
brow!  No  wonder,  with  such  a  prospect  1  Only  think 
of  being  called  Mrs.  Dobbins !  It  will  kill  her,  most 
undoubtedly !" 

"  What  shall  we  call  her  disease,  then,  Mrs.  Seyton  ?" 

"Why,  I  suppose  an  attack  of  Dobbins.  What  a  de- 
lightful epitaph  it  would  make :  '  Here  lies  Olivia,  who 
could  not  stand  Dobbins  !'  "  and  the  cruel  little  wit  laughed 
heartily  at  her  own  distorted  fancy. 

While  some  are  smiling,  others  sighing,  and  many  gap- 
ing, in  that  crowded  ball-room,  let  us  step  for  a  few 
minutes  into  the  back  piazza,  where  Laura  and  Alice  have 
a  comfortable  seat  to  see  the  play,  as  Helen  called  it, 
thanks  to  Mrs.  Boget's  kind  care. 

"  My  children,"  said  the  good  woman,  "  when  you  are 
tired  of  looking  on,  come  down  to  my  room.  I  will  send 
Caleb  in  for  some  supper  for  you.  Did  your  aunt  order 
the  carriage,  Miss  Laura?" 

"  Of  course !  and  Alice  is  going  to  sleep  with  Anna. 
We  are  very  dissipated,  to-night.  Thank  you,  old  friend," 
added  the  countess,  as  Mrs.  Boget  closed  the  door  which 
opened  on  a  back  staircase. 

"How  amusing,  and  how  I  should  like  to  be  in  the  hall 
room  !"  said  Alice.     "  But  is  there  no  danger  of  our  being 
Been?" 

"Not  the  least.  There  are  two  curtains,  beside  *he 
blinds,  before  us,  and  all  these  people  arc  too  busy  to  dream 
of  taking  a  peep  out  here.  What  luxury !  What  extrava- 

12* 


136  HELEN  LEESON: 

gance !     A  great  deal  more,  in  fact,  than  there  was  in  my 
time." 

"  How  long  ago  was  that,  Laura  ?" 

"  About  three  years.  It  has  appeared  an  age  to  me," 
sighed  the  young  widow. 

"  Yes ;  when  one  is  in  pain  time  hangs  heavily  indeed, 
replied  Alice,  in  a  tone  almost  as  sad.  "  Oh !  do  look  at 
Mrs.  Grantly !  What  a  proud,  haughty  woman  she  is ! 
Such  splendid  diamonds  !  Who  is  that  pretty  girl  on  whom 
she  looks  so  disdainfully?  In  fact,  there  is  a  terrible  dis- 
parity in  their  style  of  dress.  Poor  people  should  stay  at 
home,  now-a-days.  There  is  no  competing  with  the  crush- 
ing magnificence  of  these  people !  See  the  young  girl 
shrink  in  the  corner,  as  Mrs.  Grantly  sweeps  by  her !" 

"What  a  shame !"  said  Laura,  who  had  noticed  the  mo- 
tion of  the  fine  lady.  "  That  is  Grace  Orland — a  sweet 
little  creature ;  but,  as  you  say,  the  poor  child  would  be 
better  at  home  than  exposed  to  the  humiliating  blast  of  this 
heartless  society." 

"  Aunt  Martha  may  be  right !"  muttered  the  little 
Quakeress. 

"Not  entirely,  for  there  are  many  kind  and  noble  hearts 
in  that  crowd,  thank  heaven !  And  without  social  inter- 
course, what  would  become  of  humanity  ?  The  great  mis- 
take in  our  society  is  a  want  of  rational  moderation.  That 
has  brought  on  the  abuse  which  all  deplore,  and  which  1ms 
caused  so  many  to  condemn  it  without  appeal.  There  ia 
your  friend  Delia  Warren!"  continued  the  countess;  "and 
here  is  Mr.  Dorsay!" 

Alice  had  noticed  the  meeting  between  the  flirts  ;  but  not 
one  word  escaped  her  lips,  as,  with  aching  eyes,  she  watched 
every  action  of  the  faithless  one.  It  was  the  same  look 
of  intense  admiration  which  she  thought  was  the  expression 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  137 

of  his  devotion  to  her ;  and  from  the  motion  of  his  lips  she 
fancied  she  heard  the  very  words  which  had  entranced  her 
eager  heart;  and  when,  as  both  stood  partially  concealed 
behind  the  lace  curtain,  she  saw  Miss  Warren  not  only  de- 
tach a  rosebud  from  her  bouquet  and  present  it  to  Allan 
Dorsay,  but  allow  the  young  man  to  press  her  hand,  un- 
conscious of  the  witnesses  on  the  piazza,  Alice's  head 
dropped  on  her  friend's  shoulder,  and  burning  tears  of 
broken  hopes  fell  oh  Laura's  bosom. 

u  Did  I  not  tell  you  so  ?"  whispered  the  soothing  voice 
of  affection.  "  I  knew  it  well.  Weep  not,  dearest ;  he  is 
not  worthy  of  your  tears.  And  that  girl  is  a  fit  subject 
for  such  devotion  as  his." 

"  Oh !"  sobbed  the  young  girl,  "  can  any  one  be  so 
deceitful !  so  false  !  Fool  that  I  was  to  believe  him !  I 
never  shall  love  another  man — no,  never  !" 

"Don't  say  so,  dear  child,"  interrupted  the  countess: 
"  never  is  a  long  day  at  your  age ;  but  be  careful,  in  future, 
to  bestow  your  affections  upon  a  worthy  object;  consult 
those  who  are  older  and  wiser  than  yourself." 

Alice  sighed,  and  for  some  time  not  a  word  passed 
between  the  friends ;  but  the  little  Quakeress  had  too  inex- 
haustible a  fund  of  humour  to  allow  her  disappointment  to 
master  her  feelings  very  long. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  at  last,  "  I  hope  he  will  jilt  Delia  as 
he  jilted  me — the  deceitful  fop  !" 

"  He  will,  you  may  be  sure  of  it :  such  men  as  Allan 
Dorsay  make  it  a  business.  See  him  fluttering  about  Helen. 
Just  look  !  He  has  no  , chance  there,  I  can  tell  him," 
continued  Laura,  laughing  at  the  manoeuvres  of  the  young 
man.  "  Now,  Alice,  this  is  all  very  fine,  but  I  am  getting 
tired ;  I  ca-me  here  for  the  express  purpose  of  curing  you 
of  your  disease :  that  being  effected,  I  will  claim  a  little 


138  HELEN  LEESON: 

supper  from  Boget  and  drive  home.  Will  you  remain  here 
any  longer  ?" 

"  No ;  I  have  seen  quite  enough  for  one  evening." 

The  friends  adjourned  to  the  sewing-room,  and  were  soon 
enjoying  a  cosy  little  supper.  Laura  went  home  at  twelve 
o'clock,  and  Alice  proceeded  up  the  back  staircase  to 
Anna's  room.  She  had  to  pass  before  Robert's  apartment, 
which  had  been  appropriated  to  the  gentlemen.  Supposing 
them  all  to  be  down  stairs,  the  young  girl  walked  leisurely 
up  to  the  door.  There  stood  the' guilty  Allan  Dorsay,  who 
•was  in  the  act  of  changing  his  gloves  and  repairing  the 
slight  disasters  of  his  head-dress.  He  started  and  ex- 
claimed— 

"  You  here,  Miss  Irving,  at  this  hour  !" 

"  I  have  spent  the  whole  evening  on  the  piazza,  and 
have  been  exceedingly  amused.  Good-evening,  Mr.  Dor- 
say ;  don't  let  me  detain  you." 

"  By  Jupiter  !"  muttered  the  young  man;  "  I  have  made 
A  bad  job  of  it,  this  time." 

Beware  of  back  piazzas  and  judicious  friends,  0  ye 
wholesale  deceivers ! 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  139 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  ball  vas  over,  and  four  or  five  days  of  life's  routine 
had  restored  the  members  of  Robert  Leeson's  family  to 
their  usual  avocations.  No  more  mention  was  ever  made 
of  the  festival  which  had  incurred  so  much  expense  and 
mental  agony. 

The  proud  man  had  acquitted  his  debt  toward  society, 
but  those  which  were  far  more  sacred  still  remained  undis- 
charged ;  and  the  unhappy  father,  more  irritable  than  ever 
from  the  consciousness  of  his  own  folly,  toiled  on  day  after 
day,  in  vain  endeavouring  to  repair  the  irreparable  wreck  of 
his  fortune. 

A  few  months  more,  and  he  could  no  longer  conceal  the 
dilapidated  state  of  his  business.  How  essential,  then,  he 
thought,  that  Helen  should  marry  before  that  time !  And 
would  Sir  Archibald  return  to  renew  his  suit?  Of  his 
daughter's  consent  Mr.  Leeson  felt  quite  secure  ;  and  with 
nervous  anxiety  he  read  over  the  list  of  passengers  by  the 
Southern  steamers,  and  far  more  often  than  he  was  wont 
to,  the  father  would  go  up  to  his  worldly  sister,  to  seek 
some  solace  from  the  hopeful  accounts  which  the  lady  gave 
of  Sir  Archibald's  admiration  for  her  niece. 

One  morning,  as  Mr.  Leeson  unfolded  the  Daily  Times, 
he  saw  the  arrival  of  the  Cahawba,  and,  hastily  glancing 
over  the  paper,  he  exclaimed,  "  Lord  Devere  and  his 
nephew  have  returned !" 

Helen  was  just  entering  the  dining-room.    She  started  as 


140  HELEN  LEESON: 

her  father  continued,  "  Your  admirer  has  arrived,  Elly. 
What  a  pity  we  did  not  put  off  our  ball !  But  I  thought 
those  gentlemen  would  have  remained  much  longer  in 
Cuba;  and  now,  that  we  are  in  Lent,  no  large  parties  can 
be  given ;  how  very  annoying  !  We  must  invite  them  to 
dinner.  I  think  very  highly  of  Lord  Devere ;  in  fact,  [ 
have  always  had  a  partiality  for  Englishmen." 

After  this  unusually  amiable  speech,  Mr.  Leeson  made 
his  exit,  leaving  Helen  to  reflect  upon  it  and  finish  her 
solitary  breakfast.  It  was  ten  o'clock,  and  Robert,  habit- 
ually her  opposite  companion  at  table,  had  gone  down  town 
much  earlier  that  morning. 

The  young  girl  took  up  the  paper  ;  and  with  a  fluttering 
heart  read  over  the  list  of  passengers  by  the  Cahawba ;  for 
one  instant  her  eye  rested  on  the  name  of  the  young  noble- 
man. As  she  mechanically  followed  the  printed  column,  she 
read — "  Passengers  by  the  steamship  Atlantic  for  Liver- 
pool, Mr.  Bronson,  lady  and  child,  John  Manvers,  Walter 
Grey — " 

"  Gone !"  she  exclaimed,  with  an  expression  impossible 
to  describe  ;  but  satisfactory  it  certainly  was. 

Helen  threw  down  the  paper,  and  went  up  to  her  room 
with  the  intention  of  spending  a  quiet  morning  with  Anna. 
A  touch  of  the  little  tinkler  soon  brought  in  Alice  Irving ; 
who,  as  Laura  had  said,  was  completely  cured  of  her  love- 
disease,  and  as  cheerful  as  of  yore. 

"What  makes  you  look  so  happy,  this  morning?"  asked 
Anna,  whose  instinctive  affection  immediately  detected  the 
change  in  her  sister's  manner.  "  It  quite  reminds  me  of 
your  sweet  self,  as  you  were  six  months  ago,  before  that 
terrible  illness." 

"The  weather  is  beautiful  to-day,"  said  Helen;  "and  1 
am  like  the  birds — the  first  glimpse  at  the  return  of  spring 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         141 

always  fills  my  heart  with  delight.  Just  hear  your  little 
pets  singing;  the  sun  is  shining  on  their  cage,  and  its  bright 
rays  rejoice  the  little  ones." 

"  Yes ;  but  they  have  sung  many  a  time  lately,  sisterr 
.when  you  were  very,  very  sad." 

"  Good-morning,  my  Lady  Courtnay !"  said  Alice  Irving ; 
"allow  me  to  congratulate  you  upon  the  arrival  of  Sir 
Archibald,  whose  name  I  have  just  seen  in  the  paper.' 

"Helen  knows,"  interrupted  Anna,  smiling.  "Alice, 
do  you  think  it  is  the  arrival  of  his  lordship  which  makes 
my  birds  sing  so  merrily  ?  Sister  says  that  her  good  spirits 
and  their  joy  proceed  from  the  same  cause — the  rays  of 
the  sun." 

"You  wicked  little  puss!"  exclaimed  Helen.  "Now, 
girls,  no  teasing,  if  you  please ;  and  do  not  raise  your 
hopes  to  such  a  pitch.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  some 
news  from  England  has  hastened  the  return  of  those  gen- 
tlemen, and  that  a  wealthy  bride  is  awaiting  Sir  Archibald 
in  his  native  country,  /think  so." 

"  You  are  fibbing,  neighbour,"  said  Alice  ;  "  you  and  all 
know  the  gentleman  is  desperately  attached  to  Miss  Lee- 
ssn ;  and  if  the  English  nobleman  returns  to  his  native 
home  this  spring,  it  will  be  to  introduce  his  American  bride 
to  his  illustrious  relatives.  How  sorry  we  shall  be  to  lose 
you,  but  how  proud  of  our  friend,  Lady  Courtnay  !" 

"You  are  talking  very  foolishly,"  interrupted  Helen, 
with  mingled  sadness  and  pleasure ;  "  I  am  certain  you  are 
mistaken.  Here  is  Laura,"  she  added,  "please  drop  the 
subject." 

"What  subject?"  inquired  the  countess.  "Anna, Mas- 
ter Arthur  has  come  to  play  with  the  birds.  We  will  send 
him  with  Nina  to  your  room,  while  I  take  a  rest  here.  I 
ha"««  just  walked  up  to  the  Reservoir,  and  met  Mr.  Horace 


142  HELEN  LEESON: 

Grantly,  who  seemed  quite  flurried.  What  do  you  think 
it. was  about?  People  are  deranged  in  this  New  York." 

"Well,  what  was  it,  Cousin  Laura?"  asked  Anna,  while 
Helen  blushed  and  Alice  smiled. 

"  Nothing  at  all,  but  the  arrival  of  Lord  Devere  and 
his  insignificant  nephew ;  the  poor  old  gentleman  was  quite 
out  of  breath,  going  down,  he  said,  to  meet  his  lordship. 
I  assure  you  that  our  good  Americans,  usually  so  gifted 
with  sound  sense  and  judgment,  become  completely  devoid 
of  them  when  in  contact  with  any  personification  of 
nobility." 

"  You  should  not  say  so,  Laura,"  said  Alice.  In  one 
instant,  she  would  have  given  any  thing  to  recall  her 
words,  for  an  expression  of  intense  suffering  appeared  on 
the  countenance  of  the  young  countess. 

"Alice,"  she  said,  at  last,  "you  know  me  too  well  to 
believe  what  you  hinted  at  just  now.  And  even  if  I  had 
been  weak  enough  to  have  submitted  to  that  ridiculous  in- 
fluence of  rank  and  title,  would  it  excuse  the  frailty  in 
others  ?" 

"  No,  darling ;  pardon  me.  I  did  not  mean  any  thing,  I 
assure  you ;  but  we  were  rejoicing  and  talking  to  Helen 
about  the  young  nobleman  when  you  came  in,  and  I  did  not 
fancy  your  abusing  that  poor  young  man." 

"  Again  I  say  that  you  are  unwise,  for  Helen  scarcely 
knows  Sir  Archibald,  who  evidently  came  to  this  country 
to  seek  a  rich  wife.  Upon  such  a  short  acquaintance, 
would  you  have  her  trust  her  happiness  to  a  foreigner,  who 
will  take  her  from  her  family  and  home,  and  loosen  the 
links  which  bind  her  to  the  joys  of  her  childhood  ?  But 
this  is  idle  talk.  /  know  Helen  does  not  fancy  him,  and 
would  not  accept  him." 

Helen  answered  not,  but  went  on  with  her  embroidery 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         143 

with  nervous  speed.  Anna  had  gone  in  to  Little  Arty  for 
a  romp,  and  joyous  sounds  of  laughter  proceeded  from  the 
adjacent  room. 

''Why,  Robert,"  exclaimed  Alice,  "what  brought  you 
home  at  this  hour  ?  and  what  has  given  you  that  dejected 


air 


"How  are  you  all,  ladies?"  said  the  young  man,  not 
noticing  the  inquiring  looks  of  the  party.  "Laura,  dear, 
will  you  allow  me  to  take  this  seat  at  your  feet?  I  have 
so  much  to  tell  you,  and  something  to  show  you,  too." 

"Am  I  intruding,  Mr.  Leeson?"  asked  the  little  Qua- 
keress, rather  piqued  at  Robert's  not  answering  her  ques- 
tion. .*  - 

"  No,  no,  Alice;  I  consider  you  one  of  the  family,  and 
besides,  what  I  have  to  say  is  no  secret.  It  may  not  be 
entirely  to  my  credit,  but  you  know  I  don't  pretend  to  be 
a  very  quiet  young  man,  nor  a  very  wise  one  either." 

"  But  why  did  you  come  home  so  early,  brother  ?"  inter- 
rupted Helen. 

"  I  have  been  down  to  the  steamer  to  see  Walter  Grey 
off.  I  could  not  bear  to  part  with  the  poor  fellow,  who 
looked  so  unhappy,  so  miserable  !  I  asked  him,  a  few  days 
ago,  what  made  him  go  to  Europe.  'I  must,  my  dear  fel- 
low,' he  said;  'it  can't  be  helped.  I  shall  be  absent 
several  years,  and  perhaps  may  never  return  !  I  have 
nothing  to  live  for,  and  the  sooner  God  calls  me  to  him  the 
better!'  he  added." 

"Poor  fellow!"  said  Laura. 

"Yes  ;  and  I  would  have  given  any  thing  to  find  out  what 
was  the  matter  with  him,  for  I  am  greatly  indebted  to  Whi- 
ter. You  must  know — now  don't  frown,  Miss  Alice — ladies 
are  not  always  wise  either,  I  dare  say.  Well,  I  got  my- 
self into  a  terrible  scrape  last  winter.  One  night  at  the 

13 


144  HELEN  LEESON: 

club,  I  lost  a  thousand  dollars,  and  with  one  or  two  fellows 
who  were  not  disposed  to  spare  me.  I  had  no  means  of 
procuring  the  money.  Father  would  not  come  to  my  as- 
sistance, and  twice  before  I  had  called  upon  Aunt  Seraph — 
once  through  you,  Laura — to  pay  my  debts.  What  was  to 
be  done  ?  I  was  almost  distracted,  and  really,  for  one  mo- 
ment, I  thought  of  blowing  my  brains  out !  Good  gra- 
cious !  ladies,  don't  look  so  frightened !  You  see,  I  did 
not  do  it;  and,  in  fac'f,  I  rather  think  it  would  have  been 
a  difficult  matter  for  me  to  execute  such  a  resolution,  as  I 
have  a  most  decided  fancy  for  the  good  things  of  this 
world,  and  don't  feel  at  all  secure  about  what  my  deserts 
may  bring  me  in  the  next. 

"  At  all  events,  I  was  in  great  trouble — most  miserable, 
when,  on  the  following  morning,  I  received  a  note  from 
Grey,  containing  a  check  for  a  thousand  dollars,  and  these 
few  words,  which  I  never  shall  forget — 

"  '  You  are  in  trouble,  my  dear  Robert.  Allow  me  to 
assist  you.  We  will  settle  when  perfectly  convenient. 

"  '  Truly  yours.' 
Now,  was  not  that  pretty  ?" 

"  Beautiful  !"  exclaimed  the  countess.  "  So  unostenta- 
tious !  Such  genuine  friendship  !" 

"So  I  thought,"  said  the  young  man.  "I  really  felt 
most  grateful.  When  I  thanked  Walter,  the  only  thing  ho 
said,  was — *  Never  play  again,  Robert ;  you  will  break  your 
sister's  heart !'  He  did  not  know  you,  Elly,  but  had  seen 
you  once  or  twice  at  the  opera,  and  concluded,  I  suppose, 
that  you  must  be  extravagantly  fond  of  such  a  fine  fellow 
as  1  am !" 

"  He  was  right !"  responded  Helen,  not  raising  her  eyes 
from  her  work. 

"  I  made  a  thousand  promises  to  my  friend,"  continued 


A    PEEP    AT   NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  145 

Robert ;  "  but  you  know,  Miss  Alice,  that  promises  and  pie- 
crust have  the  same  fate — they  are  often  broken ;  and  I 
could  no  more  refrain  from  a  cosy  game  at  cards,  than  I 
could  help  demolishing  one  of  Boget's  plum-puddings  when 
within  my  reach.  The  consequence  was,  that  for  many 
months  I  was  unable  to  acquit  myself  toward  Walter,  whose 
manner  was  ever  the  same — kind  and  friendly.  Some  time 
ago,  however,  the  old  gentleman  being  in  very  fine  spirits, 
I  persuaded  him  to  hand  me  over  a  few  hundreds,  which  I 
immediately  sent  to  Grey." 

kk  Thank  heaven  !"  muttered  his  sister. 

"  Oh  !  you  need  not  be  too  prodigal  of  your  thanks,  Elly, 
for  I  never  can  return  all  he  has  done  for  me !  Lately,  in 
that  stupid  Murray  business,  I  was  a  dead  man,  as  sure  as 
I  am  sitting  here,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  interference  of 
Walter,  who,  being  very  intimate  with  Murray,  induced  him 
to  put  up  with  an  apology  on  my  part,  which  certainly 
would  not  have  satisfied  me  under  the  same  circumstances. 
He  must  have  made  use  of  some  very  powerful  arguments, 
for  George  Murray,  of  all  men,  is  the  most  punctilious  in 
matters  of  honour." 

"  I  conclude  from  all  this,"  said  Laura,  "  that  your  best 
friend  has  gone  by  the  Atlantic,  to-day,  and  is  now  on  the 
broad  ocean.  Poor  young  man  !" 

"Quite  interesting!"  said  Alice.  "Were  there  many 
persons  down  at  the  steamer?" 

"  A  great  many :  Herman,  George  Murray,  and  even 
the  old  lady,  was  there,  to  see  Walter  off.  I  saw  her  go 
down  in  his  state-room,  with  him,  and  as  they  parted,  she 
said,  sadly — '  Farewell,  my  dear  boy.  God  be  with  you  ! 
Remember  your  promise  to  write  often.  George  will  be 
forlorn  without  you,  Walter.  Don't  forget  to  see  my  friend 
Madame  de  Mornay,  in  Paris ;  she  will  be  a  great  resource 


146  HELEN  LEESON: 

to  you.  Farewell !'  and  the  kind  old  friend  was  in  teara 
when  the  steamer  left  the  wharf.  I  handed  her  to  her  car- 
riage, but  I  scarcely  think  she  knew  who  I  was.  As  I  was 
leaving,  I  met  father  and  Uncle  Horace,  both  in  search  of 
Lord  Devere  and  his  nephew.  'What  brought  you  do\\n 
here,  Robert  ?'  asked  father.  '  I  came  to  see  my  friend 
Walter  Grey,'  I  replied.  '  Your  friend  !'  exclaimed  the  old 
gentleman,  with  a  look  so  strange,  so  full  of  anger,  that  I 
did  not  stay  a  minute  to  hear  more.  As  I  was  walking  up 
Broadway,  I  espied  Aunt  Grantly's  carriage,  containing 
the  two  noblemen  and  Uncle  Horace.  I  suppose  father 
had  gone  to  the  counting-house.  I  therefore  concluded  to 
come  up  here,  as  I  did  not  fancy  seeing  a  second  edition 
of  the  paternal  glance  on  the  wharf." 

"Very  odd!"  said  Alice,  while  Helen  and  Laura  re- 
mained absorbed  in  thought.  "  But,  Robert,  you  said  you 
had  something  to  show  us." 

"I  had  forgotten  it,"  answered  the  young  man,  as  he 
drew  a  small  parcel  from  his  pocket.  "  You  may  all  look 
at  it !"  he  added,  placing  it  on  Helen's  lap.  She  hastily 
opened  the  little  package,  and  started  as  she  gazed  on  the 
lifelike  features  of  Walter  Grey. 

"  Is  it  not  handsome  ?"  exclaimed  Alice,  as  she  handed 
the  daguerreotype  to  Laura. 

"  A  beautiful  countenance,"  said  the  young  countess, 
"  but  so  sad  !  There  is  bitter  anguish  in  that  expression. 
How  came  you  by  this,  Robert  ?" 

"Well,  not  very  honestly,"  he  replied,  laughing.  "I 
heard  George  Murray  trying  to  persuade  Walter  to  have 
his  daguerreotype  taken  for  his  mother,  yesterday.  He  re- 
fused for  some  time,  but  at  last  promised  to  meet  him  in 
the  afternoon  at  Gurney's.  I  stopped  there,  just  now,  and 
was  struck  with  the  likeness.  With  some  difficulty  and  one 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YOKK  SOCIETY.         147 

or  two  fibs,  I  induced  the  man  to  give  me  a  copy  of  it,  and 
I  assure  you  no  money  would  purchase  this.  Poor  fellow !" 
he  added.  "  Don't  you  think  him  handsome,  Helen  ?" 

"Yes,  of  course,"  was  the  indifferent  answer;  "but  I 
have  seen  faces  I  admired  more." 

At  that  moment  little  Arty  came  running  into  the  room, 
followed  by  Anna  and  Tasso,  who  immediately  attempted 
to  remove  Robert  from  his  position  at  his  mistress's  feet. 

"He  considers  you  an  intruder,  Robert,"  said  the  coun- 
tess, laughing.  "  That  is  Tasso's  favourite  spot." 

"Halloa,  old  fellow!"  exclaimed  the  young  man.  "I 
have  the  best  right  to  this  place.  Come  here,  and  let's 
make  friends.  Here,  Tasso!"  but  the  offended  animal 
walked  off. 

Meanwhile,  Anna  was  sitting  on  the  carpet,  with  Arty 
on  her  lap,  showing  him  the  daguerreotype  which  had  fallen 
from  Robert's  hand  during  his  contest  with  the  dog. 

"Oh!  pretty!"  said  the  little  fellow,  and  taking  it  to 
Helen,  he  said — "  See,  Elly,  see  papa !" 

"  Don't,  darling,"  she  said,  gently  pushing  the  child  from 
her  side.  Quite  as  touchy  as  his  Newfoundland  friend, 
little  Arthur  turned  away,  saying — 

"Elly  cross — don't  love  Arty." 

"Come,  young  gentleman,"  said  Laura,  rising;  "it  13 
time  to  go  home ;  we  have  been  here  two  hours,  and  I 
promised  to  go  out  with  aunt.  Farewell,  friends.  Will 
you  be  at  home  this  evening,  Helen  ?" 

"No;  to-night  is  Emma's  literary  soiree.  I  don't  feel 
at  all  in  a  mood  to  be  entertained  by  her  learned  guests, 
but,  of  course,  I  cannot  send  an  apology." 

"  You  will  enjoy  it  exceedingly,  I  dare  say.  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray will  be  there ;  she  is  the  very  perfection  of  fine  old 
ladies.  I  called  on  her,  a  few  days  ago,  with  aunt,  for  a 

13* 


148  HELEN  LEESON: 

subscription.  She  was  so  liberal  and  kind !  Her  house  ia 
not  as  magnificent  as  Mrs.  Grantly's,  but  there  is  an  at- 
mosphere of  refinement  and  comfort  about  it  which  I  often 
miss  in  the  palaces  of  our  aristocracy.  Come,  Arty,  come : 
Robert,  we  expect  you  to  dinner  on  Sunday." 

"  Where  is  my  daguerreotype  ?"  inquired  the  young  man. 
"  On  the  floor '  What  a  shame !  I  will  not  let  you  see  it 
any  more  ;  if  I  had  brought  you  the  likeness  of  Sir  Archi- 
bald, or  even  his  old  uncle,  you  would  have  been  in  ecstasies 
about  it.  Good-morning,  ladies." 

"Now,  Helen,  you  must  lie  down,"  said  Alice  Irving; 
"  you  look  so  tired." 

"  I  have  a  very  bad  headache.  Don't  go,  Alice.  I  can- 
not bear  to  be  alone.  Tell  me  all  about  Allan  Dorsay,  or 
any  one  else.  Any  thing  you  please." 

"No,  no!  that  won't* do,  just  now.  I  have  a  great 
deal  to  attend  to  at  home,  and  you  must  rest  for  this 
evening." 

That  was  quite  impossible,  and,  after  Alice  had  gone, 
Helen  put  on  her  bonnet  and  went  out. 

Mr.  Leeson  had  positively  forbidden  his  daughter 
ever  entering  an  omnibus ;  but,  this  time,  the  tempta- 
tion was  irresistible.  It  was  empty,  and,  as  it  stopped 
beyond  the  Reservoir,  Helen  got  out  and  walked  some 
distance  on  the  road.  It  was  getting  late — four  o'clock  by 
her  watch.  She  retraced  her  steps  toward  the  omnibus 
station.  As  she  was  within  a  short  distance  of  it,  an 
elderly  gentleman  came  up  to  her,  and  said,  in  an  abrupt 
manner — 

"Miss  Leeson,  I  believe?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Helen,  rather  alarmed,  and  endea- 
vouring to  remember  where  she  had  met  him.  In  a  few 
minutes,  however,  she  recalled  that  face,  which  was  con- 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         149 

nected  \vith  the  great  catastrophe — never  to  be  forgotten. 
He  continued  in  a  hurried  manner — 

"  My  son  is  gone ;  I  shall  never  see  him  again ;  and 
you  are  the  cause  of  his  leaving  me  to  die  alone.  May 
the  Lord  forgive  you!" 

He  disappeared ;  but  those  agonizing  words  rang  in  the 
young  girl's  ear  for  many  an  hour  after  she  reached  her 
home. 


150  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

EMMA  GRANTLY  was  realizing  her  fondest  dream  for  the 
last  few  weeks :  to  have  a  select  literary  party,  to  meet 
Professor  Amory  and  her  scientific  friend,  M.  de  Cerny. 
None  but  those  whom  the  young  girl  considered  worthy  of 
such  an  enjoyment  were  to  be  invited ;  but  Mrs.  Grantly, 
judging  wisely  that  ill  nature  might  well  misshape  Emma's 
motive,  and  create  a  disagreeable  feeling  among  her  circle 
of  intimate  acquaintances,  had  extended  the  favour  to 
several  who  would  have  felt  the  slight  of  an  omission,  but 
who  certainly  could  not  appreciate  the  treatj  as  Emma 
called  it. 

Consequently,  Mrs.  Horace  Grantly,  Mrs.  Seyton,  and 
Cora  Dalton  were  there ;  and  a  very  unsatisfactory  even- 
ing it  was  to  them.  Although  intelligent  women,  their 
minds  had  been  trained  in  the  pursuit  of  frivolous  pleasures ; 
never  fed  with  that  wholesome  food — truth  and  knowledge, 
without  which  'tis  but  a  deformed  stripling — they  knew 
of  no  enjoyments  but  the  vain  pageantry  of  fashion.  Mrs. 
Seyton  whispered  to  Cora  Dalton — as  they  sat  inattentive 
listeners  to  a  beautiful  description  given  by  Professor 
Amory,  with  graphic  accuracy — 

"What  milk-and-water  people  these  are  !" 

"I  am  so  sleepy  !"  was  the  gaping  answer. 

"  What  were  your  first  impressions  of  our  country,  M. 
de  Cerny?"  said  Emma.  "The  New  World  must  have 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         151 

appeared  very  tame  to  you,  who  had  so  profoundly  studied 
and  pondered  over  the  glorious  ruins  of  past  ages." 

"  Grand  in  the  extreme !"  answered  the  naturalist.  "As 
you  say.  I  had  devoted  many  years  to  the  study  of  Time's 
passage ;  but  not  merely  among  the  wrecks  of  antiquity 
did  I  seek  the  knowledge  which,  of  all  others,  has  ever 
been  to  me  the  most  attractive.  In  visiting  Greece  and 
Rome,  it  was  not  the  spirits  of  the  departed  heroes  whom 
my  fancy  evoked.  Nor  did  I  dwell  in  long  meditations  on 
the  tombs  which  contained  the  crumbled  remains  of  ancient 
grandeur  and  broken  monarchies.  No ;  Nature  was  my 
favourite  theme — the  object  of  my  earnest  investigations. 
From  her  I  sought  the  meaning  of  many  an  obscure  enigma, 
and  from  her  I  received  answers  far  more  satisfactory  than 
the  written  records  of  bygone  centuries. 

"But  there  is,  about  the  whole  aspect  of  the  Eastern 
hemisphere,  an  appearance  of  dilapidation  and  ruin  which 
invariably  fills  the  mind  with  gloom.  It  is  the  animated 
experience  of  ages,  written  in  ineffaceable  traces  upon 
every  hill — in  every  valley.  The  antique  castle  which  hangs 
upon  the  silvery  stream  lends  a  noble  but  dark  shadow  to 
its  waters.  Some  deed  of  iniquity  must  have  rung  through 
those  deserted  halls,  and  the  echo  of  the  forest  still  repeats 
to  the  excited  imagination  sounds  of  pain  and  wo. 

"  You  can  readily  fancy  how  much  one  accustomed  to  those 
clouds  ever  passing  over  the  scenery  of  the  Old  World,  must 
enjoy  the  total  absence  of  them  in  this  country,  where 
Nature  has  been  so  bountiful  of  her  gifts ;  where  she  seema 
to  have  crowded  them  all,  saying  to  the  exhausted  climes 
of  Europe,  '  Send,  send  thy  children  to  my  new  home. 
Thou  hast  nurtured  them  long  enough.  I  have  prepared 
an  Eden  for  them  here,  beyond  the  blue  waters  of  the 
Atlantic !'  " 


152  HELEN   LEESON: 

"That  is  a  beautiful  fancy !"  said  Mrs.  Murray,  "and 
proud  may  an  American  be  to  own  a  home  capable  of  elicit- 
ing such  sentiments." 

"  America  has  ever  been  the  chosen  spot  of  the  natunil- 
ist,"  continued  Monsieur  de  Cerny  ;  "the  aim  of  all  his 
toil,  for  in  her  bosom  lay  concealed  treasures  which  science 
has  revealed,  but  of  which  few  traces  remain  in  the  conti- 
nents of  the  East." 

"  You  mean  treasures  of  wildness,  boundless  prairies,  and 
virgin  forests,  I  suppose,"  said  Emma. 

Helen  listened  to  the  conversation  with  undisguised 
pleasure.  Mrs.  Horace  Grantly  and  Cora  Dalton  had 
gone  into  an  adjoining  sitting-room,  where  a  whist-party 
had  met.  Mrs.  Seyton  contrived  to  fascinate  both  Marvell 
and  Mac  Tavish,  who  devoted  one  ear  to  the  lady,  while 
the  other  eagerly  caught  the  eloquent  sounds  which  pro- 
ceeded from  the  opposite  side  of  the  drawing-room,  much 
to  the  annoyance  of  the  little  charmer,  who  admitted  of  no 
mixed  power. 

"  Does  not  the  absence  of  all  links  with  the  past  strike 
you  disagreeably  in  our  country,  Monsieur  de  Cerny  ?" 
asked  Professor  Amory. 

"  Not  in  the  least,  I  assure  you ;  it  is  a  complete  rest. 
But,  professor,  how  did  you,  nurtured  as  you  had  been  in 
the  lap  of  Nature's  bounty,  view  her  fallen  state  in  Asia 
and  Africa?  I  think  you  told  me  you  had  travelled 
through  those  distant  regions." 

"Yes;  and  strange  to  say,"  replied  Mr.  Amory,  "[ 
experienced  the  same  craving  for  the  remaining  mementos 
of  the  past  that  you  felt  for  the  budding  beauties  of  this 
modern  Eden,  as  you  so  beautifully  term  it.  I  had  spent 
so  many  hours  in  mental  contemplation  of  the  relics  of 
antiquity — nay,  could  almost  see  them  as  they  stood  in  days 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         158 

of  yore — that  the  desire  to  study  them  on  the  spots  hallowed 
by  memory's  treasures  became  an  irresistible  necessity. 
And  still  more  strange  will  you  think  it,  when  I  add  that 
not  one  disappointment  crossed  my  path  during  the  many 
months  which  I  devoted  to  the  investigation  of  the  ruins  of 
departed  centuries.  It  was  with  infinite  delight  that  I 
visited  Italy,  Greece,  Egypt,  and  explored  every  vestige  of 
olden  times.  Those  broken  columns,  those  masses  of 
shapeless  rocks,  spoke'  a  language  so  solemn,  so  grand,  so 
different  from  the  new-born  melodies  of  my  native  land  ! 
To  me  the  towering  spire  of  an  Egyptian  obelisk,  even  the 
crescent  which  crowns  the  mosque  of  the  erring  Mussul- 
man, were  surrounded  with  a  halo  of  poetry  and  beauty 
which  the  matchless  oaks  of  our  forests  never  could  possess. 

"  Thus  it  is,  M.  de  Cerny,  that  our  nature  requires  the 
contact,  the  contemplation  of  the  unknown  ;  habit  divests 
our  usual  haunts  of  many  charms,  while  novelty  will  fre- 
quently lend  attractions  to  pursuits  far  beneath  those  to 
which  we  have  been  accustomed." 

"  True,  very  true,"  said  Mrs.  Henry  Grantly  ;  "and  is 
it  not  a  blessing?  Without  that  thirst  for  knowledge,  the 
international  intercourse,  from  which  all  derive  so  much 
benefit,  would  not  exist." 

"Undoubtedly,  dear  madam.  To  that  wise  provision  of 
Providence  we  are  indebted  for  a  great  deal  of  enjoyment. 
I  have  had  a  large  share  ;  and  to  it  we  owe  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  M.  de  Cerny  in  America,"  continued  the  pro- 
fessor, with  that  affability  of  manner  which  made  him  such 
a  favourite. 

M.  de  Cerny  bowed  and  smiled,  saying — 

"  I  would  almost  wish  myself  an  inhabitant  of  the  land 
of  Socrates,  to  be  able  to  return  your  gracious  hospitality, 
professor." 


154  HELEN  LEESON: 

"All  this  may  be  very  fine,  gentlemen,"  added  Emma, 
smiling ;  "  but  tell  me,  both,  whether  there  is  not  very 
.great  satisfaction  to  be  derived  from  the  improvements  of 
modern  civilization  and  all  the  luxuries  which  this  prolific 
age  has  showered  "upon  us?" 

"We  appreciate  those  advantages,"  replied  Mr.  Amory 
*'  and  certainly  would  not  exchange  the  comforts  of  an 
American  home  for  the  gorgeous  wrecks  of  antiquity. 
Neither  would  we  devote  all  our  days  to  study  alone. 
There  are  many  leisure  hours  which  affection  claims,  when 
the  toil  is  forgotten  for  the  pure  enjoyment  of  home  duties. 
I  am  not  of  Byron's  opinion,  that  a  student  is  unfit  for  all 
domestic  ties.  'Tis  but  the  morbid  mind  that  reasons 
thus,  and  admits  not  the  beneficial  influence  of  your  sex, 
Miss  Grantly." 

'*  I  thought  you  would  not  finish  that  beautiful  speech 
without  a  slight  homage  to  the  ladies,  professor,"  said 
Emma. 

"Yes,"  added  Mrs.  Murray,  "  if  gentlemen  admitted 
the  fact  of  our  being  worthy  listeners,  and  sometimes  not 
indifferent  antagonists,  I  think  our  chances  of  acquiring 
knowledge  would  be  more  numerous;  and  perhaps,"  she 
continued,  with  a  smile,  "we  might  occasionally  suggest 
gome  useful  hints — a  lighter  tinge  in  the  dark  shades  of 
your  superior  wisdom." 

"Who  would  not  be  proud  of  such  counsel?"  replied 
Mr.  Amory,  who,  like  most  others,  was  a  devoted  admirer 
of  Mrs.  Murray's  genuine  excellence. 

"  Helen,"  said  Emma,  u  we  have  not  once  heard  the 
sound  of  your  voice,  and  still  I  know  you  must  have 
shared  our  conversation  mentally." 

"Admiration  does  not  always  express  itself  in  words," 
interrupted  Mrs.  Grautly.  "  I  could  see  by  Helen's  look 


A    PEEP   AT    !S7EW    YORK   SOCIETY.  155 

of  intense  interest,  that  she  followed  these  gentlemen  in 
their  scientific  roamings." 

"  I  did,  indeed,"  replied  the  young  girl ;  "  and  envy  both 
the  inexhaustible  treasures  of  thought  which  their  travels 
have  afforded  them." 

"  Treasures  of  thought  \"  repeated  Mrs.  Seyton.  "  Do 
you  value  those,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  ?" 

"I  appreciate  all  earthly  and  heavenly  possessions," 
answered  the  young  man,  with  one  of  those  looks  which 
gratify  a  coquette  and  annoy  a  modest  woman. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  show  you  some  paintings  which 
are  considered  very  good,  M.  de  Cerny  ?  Professor,  Mr. 
Grantly  purchased  two  lately,  which  you  have  not  seen," 
said  the  hostess. 

The  gentlemen  rose  and  followed  Mrs.  Grantly  and  her 
daughter  into  a  small  gallery,  which  was  fitted  up  with  a 
great  deal  of  taste,  and  which  contained  some  valuable 
paintings. 

"  I  was  really  indebted  to  your  brother  this  morning, 
Miss  Leeson.  My  son  was  so  much  engaged  with  his 
friend,  that  I  felt  at  a  loss  to  reach  my  carriage,"  said 
Mrs.  Murray,  who  was  sitting  on  the  sofa  near  Helen. 

"  Robert  told  me  he  had  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
you." 

"  Yes,  I  had  not  been  in  that  part  of  the  city  since  my 
return  from  Europe ;  but  I  could  not  bear  to  part  with  ray 
young  friend,  Mr.  Grey,  without  going  down  to  the  steamer 
to  bid  him  farewell.  Poor  fellow  I  I  shall  miss  him  ter- 
ribly !  Were  you  acquainted  with  him,  Miss  Leeson  ?' 

"No,"  answered  the  young  girl,  with  a  fluttering  heart. 

"Few  knew  him  as  I  did,"  continued  the  old  lady. 
"  One  day,  when  we  are  more  private,  I  will  tell  you  how 
I  became  acquainted  with  him.  It  is  a  long  story.  He  is 

14 


156  HELEN  LEESON: 

such  a  noble  fellow !  The  dear  boy  must  be  far  from  us 
now — so  sad,  so  desolate !  But  excuse  me,  Miss  Leeson.  I 
had  forgotten  that  you  do  not  know  Walter,  and  cannot 
take  any  interest  in  him." 

"My  brother  thinks  very  highly  of  Mr.  Grey,"  responded 
Helen.  Then  anxious  to  turn  off  the  conversation,  she  took 
up  a  volume  of  the  "Flowers  Personified,"  which  was  on 
the  table  before  her.  "Are  they  not  beautiful?"  she 
added.  "  Such  exquisite  works  of  fancy !" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Murray.  "  One  might  suppose  the 
goddess  had  stood  before  the  artist,  and  had  said,  '  Thus 
shalt  thou  represent  my  children.'  Oh !  that  Grandville 
was  a  wonderful  genius.  Such  talent  should  never  die." 

"This  little  work,  frivolous  as  it  may  appear,  will  im- 
mortalize him ;  for  flowers  are  of  all  ages,  of  all  times," 
said  Helen. 

"I  have  often  thought,"  continued  Mrs.  Murray,  "what 
a  beautiful  sight  it  would  be  to  see  these  lovely  children  of 
Flora  really  animated — a  ball,  for  instance,  where  every 
young  lady  would  personate  a  flower.  I  would  like  you  to 
wear  the  royal  robes  of  the  lily.  If  my  dream  can  ever  be 
realized,  will  you  not  appear  in  the  character  of  the  peer- 
less queen?" 

"  I  should  be  most  happy  to  accept  your  kind  invitation, 
but  cannot  promise  to  fill  so  illustrious  a  rank." 

"Well,  you  may  suit  your  fancy  in  that  respect.  I  shall 
be  gratified,  I  know,  whatever  your  choice  may  be.  But 
pray  do  not  mention  it  until  after  Lent.  I  will  then  call 
upon  Miss  Emma  and  you  for  some  essential  advice.  Old 
ladies,  you  know,  have  antiquated  ideas ;  they  need  modern- 
izing, very  often." 

"  That  is  a  conclusion  I  never  should  have  arrived  at  in 
your  society,  Mrs.  Murray,"  replied  Helen,  with  a  smile. 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  157 

"Very  kind  and  polite  in  you  to  say  so;  but  truth  is 
truth,  and  wrinkles  are  sure  signs  of  age.  I  am  fully  aware 
of  the  fact,  and  do  not  entertain  the  slightest  bitterness  on 
the  subject.  But  I  am  exceedingly  fond  of  young  society, 
and  feel  grateful  for  their  toleration  of  my  old-fashioned 
notions." 

"  If  I  had  the  pleasure  of  a  longer  acquaintance  with 
you,  dear  lady,"  said  Helen,  "I  think  I  should  take  the 
liberty  of  scolding  you." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  poor  Walter  and  my  son  have  told 
me  very  often  ;  but  I  am  the  best  judge  of  my  own  worth. 
Oh!  Sir  Archibald  and  my  Lord  Devere !"  added  Mrs. 
Murray,  as  these  gentlemen  entered  the  parlour.  "  I  give 
up  my  claim  upon  you,  now,  Miss  Leeson,  and  mil  take  up 
our  chat  another  time,  I  hope." 

"  Mr.  Horace  Grantly,  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing to-day,  requested  me  to  call  upon  you,  this  evening, 
as  I  should  meet  your  family  circle,"  said  his  lordship,  ad- 
dressing Mrs.  Grantly,  who  had  just  returned  from  the 
gallery  with  her  guests. 

"  I  am  most  happy  to  see  you,  my  lord.  I  believe  you 
are  acquainted  with  these  ladies.  Emma,  my  dear,  will  you 
inform  your  father  and  your  aunt  of  Lord  Devere's  being 
here.  Sir  Archibald,  pray  take  this  seat  near  Mrs.  Seyton." 
But  before  the  lady  had  finished  her  speech,  the  baronet  had 
crossed  the  parlour,  and  was  presenting  his  respects  to  Mrs. 
Murray  and  Helen  with  unequivocal  satisfaction. 

"You  did  not  make  a  very  long  stay  in  Cuba,"  said  the 
young  girl,  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  find  an  unmeaning  phrase. 

"  Much  too  long,  I  assure  you.  Such  a  stupid,  unin- 
teresting country!  But  I  saw  some  very  pretty  women. 
The  Spanish  ladies  have  wonderful  eyes — so  large  and 
black.  I  never  could  see  any  beauty  in  a  blue  eye." 


158  HELEN  LEESON: 

Fortunately  for  the  gentleman,  this  speech  was  uttered 
before  Miss  Dalton  made  her  appearance ;  otherwise  those 
blue  orbs  would  have  frowned  a  most  terrific  reproof  upon 
the  ungallant  nobleman. 

"  You  have  no  idea  of  the  interest  I  have  been  taking  in 

*  O 

the  whist-party,  Helen,"  said  Cora,  as  she  walked  up  to 
the  tablo,  apparently  unconscious  of  the  young  man's  pre- 
sence. He  rose,  and  bowing  awkwardly,  exclaimed — 

"  Oh  !  Miss  Dalton,  how  are  you  ?  I  am  so  delighted  to 
see  you,  and  so  happy  to  return  to  New  York !" 

"  Now,  if  you  want  to  have  some  fun,  Mr.  Marvcll,  watch 
the  proceedings  of  those  two  ladies,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Seyton. 

"  Mac  Tavish  maintains  that  Miss  Leeson  has  never  been 
in  love,"  said  Harry. 

"  That  may  be  ;  but  she  would  certainly  like  to  captivate 
that  sprig  of  nobility." 

"Not  a  brilliant  conquest,  I  am  sure,"  rejoined  Marvell; 
"  but  our  ladies  are  extremely  partial  to  foreigners." 

"  I  have  not  found  that  to  be  the  case,"  said  Mac  Tavish, 
who  was  still  in  search  of  his  favourite  fancy — a  sensible 
woman.  "Mrs.  Murray,  methinks,"  he  added,  "is  acting 
rather  an  unsatisfactory  part,  over  there." 

Mac  Tavish  knew  not  that  the  old  lady  had  made  an  at- 
tempt to  rise  as  the  nobleman  came  toward  her,  but  a  whis- 
pered "  Pray  don't  go,"  had  detained  her ;  and,  in  fact,  she 
proved  a  most  valuable  auxiliary,  for  Helen  in  her  present 
state  of  mind  was  ill  fitted  to  compete  with  the  experienced 
and  self-possessed  Cora  Dalton. 

Most  of  the  gentlemen  had  joined  the  card-party.  It 
'vas  half-past  ten  when  Emma,  who  had  been  entertaining 
her  aunt  and  Mrs.  Seyton,  rose  to  give  some  orders.  A 
hurried  glance  at  the  clock  betrayed  some  anxiety  on  the 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        159 

part  of  the  young  girl,  when  the  door  opened,  and  Robert 
Leeson  and  Herman  Smith  made  their  appearance. 

"How  very  late,  gentlemen!"  said  the  little  hostess, 
going  up  to  her  guests. 

"  We  owe  you  a  thousand  apologies,  Miss  Emma,"  said 
Herman;  "but  I  was  detained  at  the  counting-house  until 
a  few  moments  ago,  and  I  had  requested  Robert  to  call  for 
me  at  nine  o'clock.  The  poor  fellow  has  been  waiting  ever 
since." 

"You  have  missed  such  a  treat  from  M.  de  Oerny  and 
Professor  Amory !  but  we  will  resume  the  conversation,  I 
hope,  at  supper." 

"Two  belles  for  one  beau  on  this  side,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Seyton,  "  and  on  the  other  two  beaux  for  one  belle.  Now, 
Mr.  Mac  Tavish,  pray  hand  me  into  the  adjoining  saloon — 
I  have  a  great  fancy  for  cards." 

"Variety  is  the  spice  of  life,  fair  lady,"  said  the  young 
man,  as  he  gave  the  coquettish  little  widow  a  comfortable 
arm-chair  near  Lord  Devere,  and  returned  to  the  drawing- 
room,  muttering,  "We  were  getting  a  little  tired  of  each 
other,  and  I  cannot  compete  with  his  lordship's  title  and 
supposed  wealth.  Oh,  women,  women !  you  are  all  flirts  ! 
When  shall  I  find  a  rational,  sensible  one  ?" 

"  Why  so  dejected,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  ?"  inquired  Emma, 
who  had  always  retained  her  easy  and  affable  manner  to- 
ward the  disappointed  Eric. 

"  You  know  too  well,  Miss  Grantly,"  sighed  the  young 
man. 

Supper  was  announced — a  cosy  set  supper — which  all 
enjoyed,  as  the  good  cheer  was  accompanied  by  wit  and 
refinement.  The  scientific  gentlemen  were  requested  to 
recall  some  poetical  souvenirs,  and  Mrs.  Seytcn  not  being 

able  to  monopolize  one  admirer,  made  several  brilliant  at- 

14* 


160  HELEN  LEESON: 

tempts  to  captivate  all.  Cora  Dalton  and  Emma  were  not 
behindhand  in  sparkling  repartee,  and  the  indispensable 
share  of  sound  sense  and  mature  reflection  was  furnished 
by  Mrs.  Murray  and  Mrs.  Grantly. 

Helen  and  her  aunt  were  the  only  silent  ones.  The 
latter  was  inadequate  to  the  task  of  entertaining  such  lite- 
rary people,  and  the  former,  crushed  in  spirit,  sighed  for 
the  hour  which  would  restore  her  to  solitude. 

In  vain  the  young  nobleman  endeavoured  to  obtain  a 
few  words  in  return  for  the  volley  of  eloquence  which  he 
had  accumulated  for  many  days  past,  for  the  express  bene- 
fit of  his  lady-love,  as  he  presumptuously  termed  Helen. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  the  company  retired ;  not,  however, 
until  Mrs.  Grantly  had  obtained  from  her  guests  the  pro- 
mise of  meeting  again  at  her  house  in  a  few  weeks. 

"Next  time,  pray  manage  your  affairs  so  as  to  be  here 
earlier,  Mr.  Smith,"  said  Emma,  as  she  shook  hands  with 
Herman.  "  Good-night,  Robert !" 

"  Let  me  offer  you  a  seat  in  my  carriage,  Miss  Leeson," 
said  Mrs.  Murray.  "  Your  aunt  has  a  long  drive  to  take, 
and  you  know  we  are  neighbours." 

Helen  accepted,  and  was  thankful  to  the  dear  old  lady 
who  so  kindly  entertained  her  on  her  way  home,  without 
expecting  much  in  return. 

"  Come  to  me  in  a  few  days,  Miss  Leeson — do.  It  will 
be  conferring  so  much  pleasure  upon  a  poor  lonely  old 
woman  !" 

"  Oh,  call  me  Helen,"  said  the  young  girl,  as  she  pressed 
her  companion's  hand. 

"  I  will.     Good-night,  dear  child!" 


PEEP   AT  NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  161 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

TIME,  that  great  leveller  of  all  human  events,  brought 
very  little  change  in  poor  Helen's  prospects.  Her  posi- 
tion had  become  almost  unbearable  ;  for  besides  the  inward 
•workings  of  her  distracted  mind,  she  had  to  contend  with 
the  increasing  importunity  of  her  father  and  aunt  to  favour 
the  suit  of  the  English  nobleman.  Mr.  Leeson  and  his 
sister  felt  it  was  an  object  of  vital  importance,  and  while 
the  cunning  lady  of  fashion  contrived  sundry  meetings 
between  the  young  people,  the  more  arbitrary  father 
expressed  his  views  of  the  matter  openly  and  with  unre- 
strained violence. 

"  Is  it  possible,  Helen,  that  you  should  not  see  the  ne- 
cessity of  grasping  such  an  opportunity  ?"  said  the  excited 
man.  "Why  do  you  reject  so  desirable  an  offer?  Sir 
Archibald  waits  but  a  favourable  moment  to  declare  him- 
self; and  your  manner  is  so  cold  and  repulsive  that  he  will, 
I  know,  give  it  up  entirely." 

"  Father,  father  !  ask  me  not  why,  but,  for  mercy's  sake, 
urge  me  not  to  do  a  thing  which  is  impossible  !" 

"  Impossible  !  why  so  ?  Are  you  attached  to  any  one 
else  ?  Answer  me." 

"  No ;  but  I  cannot  marry  Sir  Archibald." 

"•  Then,  you  may  live  to  be  a  beggar — foolish,  silly  girl ! 
When  this  marriage  would  save  you  from  so  much  suffering, 
so  much  agony,  you  cannot  sacrifice  your  feelings !  Well, 
let  the  worst  come  to  the  worst.  /  shall  not  see  it !''  And 


162  HELEN   LEESON: 

the  wretched  father  rushed  out  of  the  room,  leaving  Helen 
miserable — rebellious  against  the  awful  decree  which  had 
blighted  her  hopes  in  so  mysterious  a  manner. 

In  those  moments  of  anguish,  Laura  was  the  only  one 
who  could  heal  the  aching  spirit.  She  knew  so  well  how 
to  calm  the  violent  and  sinful  irritation  which  these  discus- 
sions between  Helen  and  her  father  usually  brought  on. 
And  kind  Aunt  Seraph  was  always  such  a  judicious  and 
mild  mediator  between  the  offended  parent  and  the 
refractory  child.  But  these  domestic  differences  produced 
a  bitterness  of  feeling  which  all  suffered  from.  Robert 
became  more  dissipated  than  ever ;  and  the  poor  mother, 
broken-hearted  and  almost  in  despair,  spent  many  a  sleep- 
less night,  brooding  over  present  cares  and  anticipating  still 
greater  evils. 

Lent,  which  proved  a  season  of  real  penance  to  the  care- 
worn members  of  Helen's  family,  passed  away,  as  all  things 
do  in  this  land  of  trial.  Its  nominal  restraint  upon  the 
worldly  had  been  somewhat  of  a  comfort  to  the  young  girl, 
for  the  opportunities  of  going  into  society  were  much  less 
frequent,  and  consequently  she  was  less  often  exposed  to 
meeting  the  young  Englishman  whose  attentions  had  become 
so  painful  to  her. 

Time  had  closed  over  the  holy  anniversary  of  the  blessed 
sacrifice  which  purchased  heaven  for  the  guilty  sinner  it 
so  divine  a  manner.  All  had  bowed  in  respectful — would 
that  we  could  say  pious — acknowledgment  of  the  inestima- 
ble boon.  And  as  the  joyous  peals  poured  forth  the  an- 
nouncement of  the*  Redeemer's  resurrection,  all,  most  all, 
wended  their  way  toward  the  temple  of  the  living  God. 
Hosannas,  hallelujahs,  rang  in  sublime  melodies  through 
the  crowded  churches,  where  the  proud  and  the  humble 
joined  in  one  universal  homage  to  the  Father  of  all. 


A  PEEP  AT   NEW  YORK    SOCIETY.  163 

Robert  Leeson  owned  a  pew  in  Grace  Church,  and  on 
Easter  Sunday  it  was  occupied  by  the  whole  family.  But, 
although  the  praises  of  the  Most  High  were  on  the  lips  of 
those  who  knelt  in  that  holy  sanctuary,  still  there  was  a 
bitterness  of  feeling  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  their  hearts, 
which  was  visible  only  to  the  Omniscient  eye.  There 
reigned  not  within  those  bosoms  the  peace  which  he  had 
won  for  them  ! 

As  Helen  left  the  church,  she  met  Mrs.  Murray,  Avho 
whispered,  hurriedly — "  Will  you  devote  an  hour  to  me, 
to-morrow  morning,  Miss  Leeson?  Emma  will  meet  you 
at  eleven  o'clock." 

"Most  willingly,  dear  madam,"  was  the  only  answer, 
for  Mr.  Marvell  and  Sydney  Morris  joined  the  belle  and 
escorted  her  to  her  residence,  or  rather  to  Miss  Marsy's, 
where  the  family  dinner-party  was  to  be  given. 

What  a  display  of  fashion,  elegant  bonnets  and  fine 
dresses,  smiling  faces  and  joyful  greetings,  emerged  from 
the  different  churches !  -  A  living  mass  of  satisfaction ;  and 
if  there  were  any  shades  to  the  human  picture,  they  were 
not  visible  by  the  rays  of  that  bright  March  sun. 

The  meeting  at  Aunt  Seraph's  was  not  as  it  had  been  in 
days  of  yore.  Laura,  weak  and  pale,  though  making  every 
effort  to  appear  cheerful,  was  unable  to  assist  her  aunt  in 
the  many  little  details  of  the  entertainment,  and  the  guests, 
with  the  exception  of  Anna  and  Herman  Smith,  were  ill- 
fitted  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  simple  and  light-hearted 
jokes  such  gatherings  generally  call  forth. 

In  short,  the  afternoon  and  evening  hung  heavily  upon 
all ;  and  at  an  early  hour  Aunt  Seraph  and  Laura  were  the 
only  inmates  of  the  hospitable  mansion. 

"  You  look  so  tired,  darling,"  said  the  anxious  friend,  as 
she  gazed  on  the  pale  features  of  the  young  countess. 


164  HELEN    LEESON  ! 

"This  constant  cough  annoys  me,  but  I  have  no  fever." 

"  Laura,"  said  Miss  Marsy,  with  a  slight  effort,  as 
though  gathering  strength  for  the  painful  task,  "  how 
would  you  like  to  go  to  Europe  in  the  spring  ?  To  visit 
all  those  interesting  countries,  and  spend  some  time  in 
Paris?" 

"Oh!  I  should  be  delighted!"  exclaimed  the  young 
widow.  "  Only  think  of  my  seeing  Italy,  the  birthplace 
of  my  poor  Arthur.  The  sacred  spot  where  the  beloved 
one  lies  !"  she  continued,  while  the  tears  fell  fast.  "  I  think 
nothing  would  do  me  so  much  good." 

"  Well,  we  must  go,  then,  and  Helen  must  accompany 
us.  The  poor  child  is  sadly  changed ;  she,  too,  requires  a 
new  life — a  rest  from  the  empty  dissipation  of  this  place. 
I  will  mention  it  to  her  in  a  few  days." 

Long  did  both  sit  that  evening,  and  talk  over  their  plans 
for  the  trip  which  was  to  bring  so  much  pleasure.  Laura's 
eyes  beamed  with  hope,  and  the  bright,  flushed  cheek  soon 
betrayed  the  nervous  excitement  within  that  frail  being. 
Poor  Aunt  Seraph  suppressed  the  sigh  which  rose  to  her 
lips  as  she  watched  the  well-known  symptoms  of  the  uncon- 
querable evil.  But  hers  had  been  a  life  of  self-denial ;  one 
long  hour  of  devotion  to  the  loved  ones.  She  dreamed  not 
of  self;  the  feeling  was  unknown  to  that  pure  spirit  of 
charity  and  affection. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Murray  at  home  ?"  asked  our  heroine  on  the 
following  morning,  as  she  entered  the  beautiful  residence 
of  the  kind  old  lady. 

"  Y«>s,  ma'am,"  said  the  waiter,  "  but  a  little  engaged 
just  now  with  a  poor  woman  in  distress.  Please  to  walk 
into  the  library  ?  Madam  will  be  down  in  a  few  minutes 
— she  expects  Miss  Leeson." 

Accordingly  Helen  was  ushered  into  the  little  retreat, 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         165 

which  had  been  adorned  by  Mrs.  Murray  and  her  son  with 
valuable  collections  of  books  and  works  of  art.  The  dark 
oak  which  covered  the  walls  was  sculptured  in  antique  mo- 
dels, and  the  heavy  dark -green  velvet  curtains  which  hung 
from  the  oak  cornice  gave  it  that  peculiar  appearance  of 
comfort  and  elegance  which  has  in  many  establishments 
rendered  the  library  the  favourite  resort  for  the  lovers  of 
peace  and  quiet  enjoyment. 

Helen  sat  in  an  arm-chair  near  the  fire,  and  after  re- 
maining a  few  moments  absorbed  in  thought,  she  took  up 
an  album  which  was  on  the  table  near  her.  It  contained 
many  beautiful  sketches  of  American  scenery,  drawn  by 
the  hand  of  an  artist.  And  as  she  turned  over  the  pages, 
she  saw  several  views  of  England,  and  here  and  there  a 
reflection  beneath  the  various  souvenirs  which  had  been 
pencilled  above. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  child  !"  said  Mrs.  Murray,  as  she  came 
in,  and  shook  hands  with  Helen  in  her  usual  cordial  man- 
ner, "I  am  glad  to  find  you  thus  engaged.  That  is  an 
album  which  I  value  most  highly — all  drawings  by  my 
friend  Walter.  The  last  ones  he  sent  me  from  England, 
with  such  a  kind,  affectionate  letter  !  I  was  so  delighted 
to  hear  of  his  safe  arrival !  Now  that  we  are  alone,  I  will 
tell  you  all  about  him.  Emma  sent  me  word  she  could  not 
be  here  before  twelve  o'clock,  and  I  was  selfish  enough  not 
to  mention  it,  that  I  might  have  you  all  to  myself  for  a 
little  while.  But  tell  me,  first,  how  you  are,  and  take  off 
that  pretty  bonnet — let  me  see  you  quite  at  home.  Is  not 
this  a  nice  little  place  ?" 

"  Charming  !"  replied  the  young  girl,  trembling  at  the 
prospect  of  the  subject  with  which  the  unconscious  hostess 
intended  to  entertain  her  guest.  Fortunately,  the  faint 
light  which  reigned  in  the  library  concealed  the  changes 


166  HELEN  LEESON: 

which  Helen's  countenance  betrayed  during  that  dreaded 
conversation. 

"I  shall  have  to  tell  you  a  little  about  myself,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Murray, — "a  subject  which  I  would  ruther 
avoid,  as  it  recalls  painful  remembrances  of  anguish.  You 
may,  perhaps,  have  heard  from  your  aunt,  Miss  Marsy, 
whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing  in  the  days  of  my 
youth  and  happiness,  that  mine  was  a  bright  fate  for  seve- 
ral years  after  my  marriage.  My  husband  was  the  best, 
the  kindest  of  earthly  protectors,  and  his  love  proved  an 
ample  compensation  for  the  loss  of  a  home  where  I  had 
been  an  only  and  idolized  child.  For  five  or  six  years,  no 
cloud  dimmed  the  brilliant  vista.  Four  little  ones,  nearly 
of  a  size,  were  growing  up  around  us,  and  added  new  joys 
to  our  peaceful  existence.  But  a  terrible  day  of  trial  was  . 
at  hand.  I  lost  my  husband  ;  and  scarcely  six  months 
had  elapsed,  when  the  divine  messenger  claimed  the  three 
darlings  whose  smiles  had  been  my  only  comfort  in  that 
agonizing  bereavement !  They  died,  in  one  week,  of  the 
measles !  My  George  was  the  only  one  spared  to  bind  me 
to  this  sad  life.  He  was  the  oldest,  and  even  at  that  early 
age  proved  the  support  of  my  waning  strength.  Alas  !" 

"  Dear  friend !"  interrupted  Helen,  as  she  clasped  the 
hand  of  the  poor  mother. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Mrs.  Murray,  "  I  felt  that  Providence 
had  spared  my  boy,  that  I  might  not  die  of  despair  !  But 
it  was  long,  very  long,  before  my  rebellious  spirit  would 
bend  in  submissive  resignation,  and  acknowledge  the  bless- 
ing which  remained  to  point  out  the  path  to  heaven.  Often, 
since  I  have  grown  older  and  have  acquired  experience, 
have  I  knelt  in  humble  gratitude  to  the  Divine  Wisdom 
which  spared  the  three  angels  so  much  pain  and  care  !  1 
feel  for  them  a  security  which  cannot  exist  in  this  land  of 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        167 

trials  and  temptation.  I  know  they  are  at  rest,  pure  and 
holy,  in  the  presence  of  the  Saviour !  But  why  should  I 
thus  unfold  to  your  young  heart  the  dark  pages  of  the 
world's  trials  ?  Forgive  me,  and  let  me  tell  you  at  once 
about  Walter.  I  love  to  talk  of  the  kind  young  man — 
almost  a  second  son  to  me  ! 

"  About  five  years  ago,  I  was  spending  the  summer  at 
Saratoga  with  George.  We  had  taken  one  of  the  cottages, 
which  afforded  me  all  the  comforts  of  a  quiet  home.  I 
emerged  from  it  often,  however,  to  enjoy  the  sweets  of  so- 
ciety, which  I  felt  were  beneficial  to  my  health  and  spirits. 
I  had  met,  of  course,  many  acquaintances,  and  one  of  my 
favourite  pleasures  was  to  have  a  meeting  of  my  young 
friends  at  the  cottage — merry  parties  and  cozy  suppers, 
which  all  seemed  to  enjoy.  We  had  been  at  Saratoga 
several  weeks,  when  George  was  taken  ill  of  a  fever,  which 
I  thought  slight  at  first,  but  when,  a  day  or  two  after- 
ward, finding  that  it  did  not  abate,  I  sent  for  the  physi- 
cian, he  told  me  my  son  was  very  ill ;  and,  in  fact,  in  a 
Tew  hours  he  was  covered  with  a  rash,  which  turned  out  to 
fte  the  measles.  You  can  easily  imagine  my  agony — my 
iespair  !  The  very  mention  of  the  fatal  disease  sounded 
like  the  knell  of  death,  and  at  once  I  thought  all  was  over 
— that  God  would  take  from  me  my  only  joy — my  only 
hope.  I  procured  a  nurse  in  the  village,  and  for  two  or 
three  nights  I  sat  up  with  the  dear  invalid.  On  the  fourth 
day,  exhausted,  both  mentally  and  physically,  I  had  gone 
into  the  parlour  adjoining  my  son's  room,  leaving  the  door 
open,  when  the  bell  rang,  and  a  gentleman,  a  perfect 
stranger  to  me,  made  his  appearance,  without  waiting  to 
be  announced. 

"  '  Mrs.  Murray,'  he  said,  *  I  arrived  at  Saratoga  this 
afternoon,  and  heard  of  George's  being  ill.  We  were  al 

16 


168  HELEN  LEESON: 

school  together  for  many  years,  and  have  always  been  in- 
timate. I  think  he  would  not  object  to  my  sitting  up  with 
him  to-night,  and  allowing  you  to  take  a  little  rest.  Pray 
accept  my  services  :  I  have  no  dread  of  the  disease,  and 
having  nursed  my  poor  mother  for  many  months,  can  be 
trusted  with  perfect  security.' 

"  I  remonstrated  with  the  friend  who  thus  came  to  my 
assistance ;  and  not  being  willing  to  contract  so  great  an 
obligation,  I  had  politely  refused  his  offer,  when  my  son, 
who  had  overheard  the  conversation,  called  me  to  his  bed- 
side. 

"  *  Mother,'  he  said,  '  let  Walter  sit  up  with  me,  and  do 
go  to  bed.  I  want  to  have  him  :  he  is  an  excellent 
fellow.' 

"  I  dared  not  oppose  George's  wish,  and  although  I  per- 
sisted in  spending  the  night  in  the  sick-room,  still  it  was 
the  greatest  comfort  to  me  to  have  the  company  and 
judicious  care  of  the  young  man.  For  ten  nights  he  did 
not  leave  my  poor  boy,  who,  thanks  to  the  doctor's  skill, 
or,  I  should  say,  to  the  mercy  of  the  Divine  Ruler,  who 
'  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,'  was  restored  to 
me.  It  was  a  glorious  day  that,  upon  which  George  entered 
the  little  drawing-room,  leaning  on  Walter's  arm,  smiling 
upon  my  happy  countenance,  and  the  many  flowery  tokens 
which  I  had  collected  to  celebrate  his  convalescence.  Walter 
was  quite  ill  after  George's  recovery,  but  I  knew  nothing  of 
it,  for  he  left  Saratoga  the  day  after  my  son  was  able  to 
drive  out. 

"  Of  course,  when  I  returned  to  the  city,  my  first  thought 
was  to  send  for  the  friend  to  whom  I  was  so  much  indebted. 
I  did  every  thing  in  my  power  to  discover  the  cause  of  that 
unusual  melancholy  which  seemed  to  be  almost  natural  to 
Walter,  and  which  six  months  ago  increased  tenfold.  I 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         169 

thought  that  some  embarrassment  in  his  business  might 
occasion  that  sadness,  and  would  have  given  half  of  my 
fortune  to  assist  the  poor  boy.  But  George  assured  mo 
that  he  was  doing  very  well,  and  that  he  had  a  wealthy 
bachelor  uncle,  who,  for  many  years  past,  had  supported 
his  father,  much  to  Walter's  annoyance,  and  who  would 
probably  leave  him  the  whole  of  his  property.  What,  then, 
could  be  the  matter  with  our  young  friend?  At  twenty- 
seven,  one  may  possibly  be  in  love ;  and  I  was  convinced 
of  it  at  last.  About  two  months  ago,  one  day,  as  I 
reached  home  rather  late  in  the  afternoon,  my  waiter, 
Benjamin,  told  me  that  Mr.  Grey  was  in  the  library.  As 
he  dined  with  us  once  or  twice  a  week,  we  did  not  consider 
him  a  stranger,  and  I  usually  left  him  to  entertain  himself 
until  the  dinner-hour.  However,  having  forgotten  a  book 
which  I  was  reading  on  this  table,  I  thought  I  would  step 
in  for  it,  and  gently  raised  the  curtain  which  hangs  over 
the  door.  Walter  sat  where  you  are  sitting  now,  apparently 
absorbed  in  thought.  It  was  too  dark  to  distinguish  his 
features,  but  I  heard  him  mutter,  with  an  expression  of 
anguish  not  easily  forgotten,  '  Oh !  shall  I  never  call 
her  mine?'  I  dropped  the  curtain  softly,  and  having 
hastily  changed  my  dress,  I  returned  to  the  library  to  sit 
with  Walter,  hoping  to  divert  his  thoughts,  or,  perhaps, 
discover  the  secret  which  caused  his  melancholy ;  but  in 
vain.  He  spoke  of  our  sex  in  a  strange,  wild  manner, 
saying,"  added  Mrs.  Murray,  smiling,  "  that  he  knew  but 
one  worthy  of  affection,  and  that  was  myself.  Puzzled,  and 
anxious  to  bring  comfort  and  happiness  to  one  to  whom  I 
owed  so  much,  I  communicated  my  conjectures  to  my  son, 
with  the  hope  that  he  might  find  an  explanation  to  the 
words  which  I  had  overheard.  But  he  was  no  wiser  than 
myself.  We  knew  that  Walter  visited  in  no  family  except 


170  HELEN  LEESON: 

ours,  and  even  refused  to  come  here  when  we  expected 
company.  I  have  never  been  able  to  solve  the  mystery, 
and  regret  it  deeply,  for  it  would  have  given  me  infinite 
pleasure  to  see  him  happy ;  and  his  is  a  heart  which  any 
woman  might  be  proud  of  possessing.  But,  dear  child, 
how  cold  your  hand  is  !  I  have  fatigued  you  with  this  long 
story,  which  I  thought  might  be  interesting,  as  your  brother 
is  one  of  Walter's  best  friends.  Let  me  give  you  a  little 
cordial,"  and  the  old  lady  rang  the  bell. 

"lam  perfectly  well,"  said  Helen,  making  a  terrible 
effort  to  conceal  her  emotion,  which  had  been  increasing 
in  a  painful  manner  since  the  beginning  of  Mrs.  Murray's 
narrative. 

"  No,  no  !  You  look  ill.  I  suppose  you  were  up  late, 
last  evening,  and  perhaps  require  some  nourishment.  It  is 
twelve  o'clock.  Let  me  take  you  into  the  dining-room. 
Lunch  must  be  ready,  and  Miss  Grantly  will  be  here  in  a 
few  minutes." 

Helen  rose,  and  mechanically  followed  the  hostess.  But 
she  could  eat  nothing;  and  both  ladies  returned  to  the 
library,  where  they  were  soon  joined  by  Emma,  in  high 
spirits  and  delighted  with  the  idea  of  the  flower-ball. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  !"  said  Mrs.  Murray  ;  "for  I 
very  foolishly  entertained  this  sensitive  little  friend  of  mine 
with  a  long  and  gloomy  story,  which  has  given  her  the 
blues." 

"  It  may  have  made  me  sad,  but  it  was  certainly  very 
interesting,"  said  Helen. 

"Well,  now,  we  will  drop  those  souvenirs,"  continued 
Mrs.  Murray,  "  and  think  only  of  making  Flora's  daughters 
smile,  dance,  and  flirt,  in  the  most  becoming  manner. 
You  have  a  brilliant  imagination,  Emma ;  pray,  give  us  the 
benefit  of  it." 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  171 

"  All  the  glory  of  this  novel  and  beautiful  idea  lies  with 
you,"  said  Emma,  smiling.  "  I  never  should  have  thought 
of  it." 

^  Perhaps  the  execution  may  appear  difficult  to  us,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Murray ;  "  but  the  very  fact  of  its  not  being 
easily  accomplished  will  render  it  tenfold  more  charming. 
Now,  Helen,  what  flower  will  you  choose  ?" 

"  Oh  !  think  not  of  me — it  is  of  very  little  importance." 

"  Here  is  the  book,  and  Benjamin  will  light  the  gas,  for 
it  is  terribly  dark  everywhere,  to-day.  Now,  let  me  see — 
I  will  select  a  dress  for  each  of  you,  and  you  must  abide  by 
my  decision.  I  think  I  know  you  sufficiently  well  to  ani- 
mate your  respective  dispositions.  Oh !  here  is  the  very 
thing !  Look,  Emma !  Don't  you  think  Helen,  as  she 
sits  there  so  pensive,  so  sad,  resembles  this  Pensee,  or 
Heart's-ease ;  or,  still  more  properly  speaking,  Flower  of 
Thought?" 

"Exactly,"  exclaimed  Miss  Grantly.  "Don't  say  a 
word,  Elly;  it  is  perfect." 

"Very  well;  I  will  personate  the  Pensee,"  said  Helen, 
smiling,  "and  try  my  best  to  keep  up  the  character." 

"  Judging  from  present  appearances,"  said  Emma,  "  that 
will  not  be  very  difficult.  Now  please,  Mrs.  Murray,  allow 
me  to  choose  my  own  robes,"  she  added.  "There  is  one 
which  suits  me  in  every  respect.  Here  it  is — the  Violet." 

"  How  humble  !  how  modest-!"  exclaimed  the  old  lady. 

"  Do  you  not  value  its  sweet  perfume  ?  I  think,  on  the 
contrary,  that  my  selection  betrays  a  great  deal  of  vanity 
— I  do,  indeed.  Now,  it  must  be  so ;  I  know  exactly  how 
it  will  look — so  pretty  and  becoming,"  added  the  sweet 
girl,  while  Helen  could  not  help  envying  Emma's  bright 
nature,  which  beamed  on  all  around  her. 

"  I  will  have  the  parlours  decorated  with  flowers,"  said 

15* 


172  HELEN  LEESON: 

Mrs.  Murray;  "and  none  except  the  mammas  will  be  ad- 
mitted without  one  of  the  dresses  which  Grandville  has  as- 
signed to  the  fair  inmates  of  our  gardens.  Now,  ladies," 
she  added,  "  I  have  a  secret  to  confide  to  you,  which  you 
must  promise  never  to  reveal,  and  which  I  cannot  very  well 
execute  without  your  assistance.  I  believe  you  are  rather 
intimate  with  little  Grace  Orland,  Miss  Emma;  are  you 
not?" 

"  Oh  !  very  intimate.  She  is  such  a  modest,  unassuming 
girl,  and  so  talented.  You  have  lost  sight  of  her,  I  think, 
Helen,  of  late." 

"Yes,"  responded  her  friend,  as  she  remembered  Mrs. 
Grantly's  uncharitable  remarks  about  the  Orlands ;  "  I  have 
only  seen  her  once  or  twice — at  our  house,  and  here,  I 
believe,  one  morning." 

"Well,"  continued  Mrs.  Murray,  "I  think  very  highly 
of  Mrs.  Orland,  who  has  borne  the  sad  reverses  of  fortune 
in  a  meek  and  Christianlike  manner,  comforting  her  poor 
husband  with  words  of  consolation  and  a  cheerful  spirit, 
which  the  unfortunate  man  was  greatly  in  need  of.  Her 
daughter,  too,  has  shown  a  great  deal  of  character,  forget- 
ting her  own  disappointments  and  bitter  deceptions  to  be 
all-in-all  to  her  parents  and  sisters.  I  admire  Grace  ex- 
ceedingly, and  would  be  very  happy  to  afford  her  some 
pleasure.  I  know  she  will  not  be  able  to  come  to  the  ball 
unless  a  dress  is  provided  for  her,  and  I  would  like  to  have 
it  all  made,  and  send  it  a  few  days  beforehand,  ready  to 
put  on.  Now,  Miss  Emma,  what  can  you  suggest?" 

"  This  time  I  can  serve  you  most  effectually.  My  dress- 
maker has  worked  for  Mrs.  Orland  for  many  years.  She 
can  make  the  costume  without  Grace's  knowledge,  and  the 
surprise  will  be  complete." 

"  Delightful !     I  knew  you  were  a  capital  counsellor. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         173 

Helen  must  do  the  rest,  and  select  the  dress  for  our  little 
friend.  Here  is  the  book,  fair  lady." 

"  I  should  think  she  would  look  sweetly  as  the  Daisy — 
so  simple,  so  pure  !" 

"  Yes,  that  will  do  very  well,  and  I  shall  enjoy  the  poor 
child's  surprise.  But,  remember,  not  one  word  to  any  one 
about  this  fancy  of  mine.  Ah,  Benjamin !  what  have  you 
there — a  note?"  continued  Mrs.  Murray,  opening  the 
scented  billet.  "  Cards  from  Mrs.  Coverley,  from  Miss 
Olivia ;  and  here  is  Mr.  Dobbins.  What  a  name  !  Think 
you  as  Shakspeare  does  on  the  subject,  Miss  Emma  ?" 

"Not  exactly  ;  although  I  must  confess  that  a  common 
name  does  not  depreciate  a  person's  character  in  my  eyes," 
responded  the  young  girl,  blushing. 

"We  came  here  to  be  of  some  use  to  you,  dear  madam," 
said  Helen,  "  and  I  do  not  see  that  we  have  at  all  ad- 
vanced matters.  This  will,  I  fear,  give  you  considerable 
fatigue  and  annoyance." 

"  You  do  not  know  my  mother,  Miss  Leeson,"  said 
George  Murray,  who  overheard  Helen's  remark  as  he  en- 
tered the  library.  "  Ladies,  your  most  obedient ;  can  I 
be  admitted  to  this  illustrious  confab  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  suggest  any  thing  graceful  and  pretty," 
said  his  mother ;  "  I  am  pursuing  my  fancy  for  a  ball 
composed  of  flowers,  personified  by  our  blooming  belles." 

"  A  difficult  thing  to  accomplish,  my  dear  mother." 

"  Why  so  ?  If  they  look  sweetly  here  in  their  white 
draperies  covered  with  leaves  and  flowers,  why  should  they 
not  be  a  thousand  times  more  beautiful  when  really  ani- 
mated?" 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  objection,  and  will  greatly  ap- 
preciate this  novel  parterre.  May  I  ask  what  your  selec- 
tions have  been,  young  ladies  ?" 


174  HELEN   LEESON: 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  secret !"  exclaimed  Emma.  "  You  are 
to  remain  in  total  darkness  on  the  subject." 

"  Yes,  George ;  you  may  take  charge  of  the  decorations 
and  supper,  and  provide  showers  of  flowers  for  the  occa- 
sion," said  Mrs.  Murray. 

"•  That  is  unwise  in  you,  for  we  surely  cannot  pretend  to 
compete  with  the  genuine  daughters  of  Flora,"  added 
Helen,  smiling. 

"  The  rose  will  blush  at  the  contact,  Miss  Leeson,  and 
the  lily  turn  deathly  pale,  most  certainly." 

"  Come,  Mr.  Flatterer,  that  is  all  very  fine,"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Murray,  "  but  you  must  attend  to  my  favourite  dream 
immediately.  I  will  send  out  the  invitations  to-morrow, 
and  in  two  weeks  the  flowers,  personified,  will  honour  us 
•with  their  presence." 

"  What !  so  late  already !"  said  Emma.  "  You  have 
been  so  entertaining  that,  were  it  not  for  this  telltale  on 
the  mantel-piece,  I  should  never  have  thought  of  the  hour. 
Now,  do  not  scruple  to  send  for  me  or  this  pensive  friend 
of  mine,  if  we  can  be  of  the  slightest  use  to  you.  I  will 
write  to  Mrs.  Martin,  the  dress-maker,  in  a  few  days. 
Helen,  where  is  your  bonnet  ?  You  lazy  child !  one  would 
suppose  you  could  not  make  up  your  mind  to  leave  that 
comfortable  chair !" 

"  That  was  Walter's  favourite  seat,"  observed  Mr.  Mur- 
ray. "  By-the-by,  mother,  in  his  last  letter,  he  says  that 
he  will  send  you  the  little  statue  you  spoke  of." 

"'  Another  fancy  of  mine,  which  I  must  tell  you  about 
the  next  time  I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you ;  and  then 
I  hope  to  be  more  entertaining,  Miss  Leeson." 

"  You  had  promised  to  drop  that  formal  title." 

"  I  had  forgotten  it.  Old  people  are  apt  to  forget,  you 
know  ?  Farewell !  and  many  thanks  for  the  pleasure  your 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  175 

visit  has  procured  me.     George,  at  -what  o'clock  will  you 
be  home  ?" 

"  As  soon  as  I  have  escorted  these  ladies." 
Kind  Mrs.  Murray  claimed  a  kiss  from  her  young 
friends  ;  and  after  they  had  left  she  wrote  a  note  to  Miss 
Orland,  which  brought  the  young  girl  at  five  o'clock  for 
dinner,  after  which  both  ladies,  assisted  by  George  Mur- 
ray, in  excellent  spirits,  sat  down  to  write  the  invitations 
for  the  ball. 


176  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

GREAT  was  the  excitement  created  among  the  elite  of 
the  fashionables  by  the  announcement  of  Mrs.  Murray's 
novel  entertainment,  and  many  were  the  consultations 
among  the  ladies  who  were  expected  to  animate  their  love- 
lier sisters,  the  gems  of  creation.  But  woman's  vanity  is 
daring  and  energetic  ;  it  dreads  not  the  rival  charms  of  the 
rose  nor  the  splendour  of  the  camelia  or  ger-aniura ;  the 
only  hesitation  was  as  to  which  would  be  the  most  becoming. 
All  the  flower-artists  were  called  upon  to  furnish  the  mate- 
rials for  these  new  fancy  dresses,  and  many  hours  were 
devoted  to  the  execution  of  Mrs.  Murray's  floral  innovation. 

While  these  preparations  were  going  on  to  the  infinite 
delight  of  the  belles,  all  were  compelled  to  forget  them 
a  short  time  to  call  upon  the  fair  Olivia,  or  rather  the 
newly-married  Mrs.  Dobbins,  who,  as  usual  in  our  society, 
sported  her  rich  lace  veil  and  orange-blossoms  a  few  days 
after  her  wedding  to  receive  her  friends. 

It  was  a  large  reception,  crowded  to  Mrs.  Coverley's 
great  satisfaction,  who.  while  she  was  bestowing  her  only 
daughter  on  an  insignificant  millionaire  with  perfect  un- 
concern, would  have  been  truly  miserable  if  her  reception 
had  not  proved  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  the  season. 

Helen  and  her  aunt  were  there,  of  course ;  in  fact,  all 
our  acquaintances — the  fashionable  ones,  we  mean ;  for  we 
have  the  privilege  of  knowing  and  appreciating  all — rich 
and  poor,  young  and  old. 


A   PEEP    AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  I'd 

"What  a  treat  it  is  to  see  you  once  more,  Miss  Leeson  !" 
said  Mac  Tavish.  "  Methinks  a  whole  century  of  penance 
has  hung  over  us  since  we  last  met,  and  you  look  as 
though  you  had  been  very  pious  during  that  holy  season 
of  Lent." 

"  Take  care,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish !"  responded  Helen,  smiling ; 
*'  I  shall  be  on  .my  guard,  and  say,  as  the  young  Scotch 
girls  did,  that  you  are  too  wise." 

"I  am  wise,  indeed,"  he  replied,  with  a  strange  expres- 
sion ;  "  and  will  tell  you  something  that  will  make  you 
start,  next  Tuesday,  at  Mrs.  Murray's  ball." 

"  Why  not  now  ?  You  have  excited  my  curiosity ;  why 
not  gratify  it  immediately?" 

"  Because  I  might  be  mistaken.  Oh  !  Marvell,  is  that 
you  ?  Have  you  seen  the  groom  ?  Six  feet  and  a  few 
inches,  I  am  sure ;  and  so  much  in  love  !  It  is  comical ! 
Pretty  women  must  be  very  scarce  in  India." 

"  Very  scarce  everywhere.  Why  so  silent,  Miss  Helen? 
Has  this  prophet  been  trying  his  science  upon  you  again  ? 
He  made  such  a  mistake  the  other  day,  I  thought  he  would 
not  be  tempted  to  renew  the  trial." 

"  Mistake !  My  dear  fellow,  you  are  labouring  under 
a  complete  delusion.  But  that  is  of  no  consequence 
whatever,  just  now.  On  such  occasions  as  these,  one  is 
bound  to  think  of  nothing  else  but  the  brilliant  prospects 
of  the  bride,  who  is  going,  it  appears,  on  a  wedding  tour 
to  Niagara,  and  in  a  few  weeks  will  leave  for  Europe. 
Would  you  not  enjoy  a  visit  abroad,  Miss  Leeson?" 

"  Exceedingly ;  but  I  have  no  hope  of  ever  realizing  that 
dream.  Good-morning,  Sir  Archibald,"  added  Helen,  in 
answer  to  the  nobleman's  respectful  bow.  Gladly  would 
she  have  avoided  the  meeting,  but  the  crowd  was  so  great 
at  that  moment  that  it  was  impossible  to  circulate.  Thu 


178  HELEN  LEESON: 

bride  was  literally  crushed  with  friendly  congratulations, 
and  the  weight  of  them,  or  some  secret  annoyance,  con- 
tracted her  brow  in  a  most  unbecoming  manner.  Perhaps 
it  was  the  repeated  mention  of  Sir  Archibald  Courtnay's 
euphonious  title  which  made  her  own  newly-acquired  name 
sound  still  more  discordantly;  or,  perhaps,  the  "Now, 
Olivia,  you  will  be  completely  worn  out  with  all  this  fuss," 
whispered  by  the  anxious  husband,  caused  that  look  of 
concern  to  settle  on  the  countenance  thus  exposed  to  the 
gaze  of  all — charitable  and  ill-natured.  Sad  to  say,  the 
latter  sometimes  predominate,  and  our  friends  Mac  Tavish, 
Marvell,  and  many  others,  who  had  at  one  time  paid  their 
homage  to  Miss  Coverley,  were  not  slightly  pleased  to  dis- 
cover that,  after  all,  she  had  made  a  poor  bargain  ;  or,  we 
should  say,  an  uncongenial  match.  All  wedding-receptions 
bear  a  strong  resemblance  to  each  other,  and,  as  most  of 
our  readers  are  well  acquainted  with  the  usual  routine  fol- 
lowed on  such  occasions,  we  will  leave  Mrs.  Dobbins  in  her 
travelling  dress,  bidding  farewell  to  her  fond  mother  and  a 
few  intimate  friends,  and  starting  with  her  husband  for  a 
tete-a-tete  of  six  weeks.  Let  us  seek  less  exciting  and 
more  soothing  emotions. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  the  night  previous  to  Mrs.  Murray's 
ball.  In  a  small  but  neatly-furnished  parlour  sat  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Orland  and  their  daughter.  The  four  little  ones  had 
been  sent  to  bed. 

Mr.  Orland  was  reading.  The  care-worn  look  of  the 
Btricken  man  told  a  sad  tale  of  anguish;  but  hope  still 
beamed  in  that  fine  eye,  in  that  noble  countenance  ;  and 
now  and  then  the  father  would  look  up  from  his  book, 
to  cast  a  hurried  glance  at  the  fair  young  creature — his 
beloved  child — who  sat  apparently  occupied  by  her  work 
alone,  so  intense  was  the  abstraction.  Mrs.  Orland — the 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        17C 

once  wealthy  lady  of  fashion,  but,  under  all  circumstances, 
the  self-sacrificing  woman — had  proved  Avorthy  of  the  trust 
Providence  had  placed  in  her.  She  had  been  the  angel  of 
hope  and  peace  to  her  agonized  husband,  and  had  cheerfully 
accepted  the  new  life  which  God  had  assigned  to  her. 

That  evening,  Mrs.  Orland  was  busily  employed  in 
mending  her  children's  garments,  cutting  out  new  ones, 
and  superintending  the  inexperience  of  her  daughter,  who, 
like  many  others,  had  never  attempted  to  learn  any  of 
those  little  domestic  talents  which,  in  some  parts  of  Europe, 
form  an  essential  branch  of  education.  Grace  was  just 
seventeen,  fond  of  gayety  and  society;  and  one  of  the 
poor  mother's  great  trials  had  been  to  deprive  her  daughter 
of  the  pleasures  she  so  longed  for.  Several  times  Mrs. 
Murray  had  taken  charge  of  the  young  girl,  but  so  many 
disappointments — nay,  humiliations — had  crossed  the  poor 
child's  path,  that  she  had  finally  given  up  going  to  balls, 
where  she  could  not  appear  in  the  same  extravagant  dresses 
as  her  former  companions. 

"  Grace,  dear,  are  you  ill  ?"  said  Mrs.  Orland,  who 
watched  the  quivering  lip  and  tearful  eyes  of  her  daugh- 
ter. 

"  No,  mother ;  only  a  little  tired.  You  know  I  spent 
several  hours  at  Mrs.  Murray's  this  morning,  arranging 
the  flowers  with  George ;  we  had  a  fine  time,  but  it  was 
rather  fatiguing.  I  wish  you  would  go  around  there  to- 
morrow, to  look  at  the  parlours.  They  are  superb,  and 
the  ball  will  be  magnificent,"  added  the  young  girl  as  the 
tear  fell  on  her  work. 

"  Don't  think  of  it,  dear  ;  balls  are  such  empty,  insignifi- 
cant enjoyments !" 

"  To  you,  mother,  perhaps ;  but  to  me  a  ball  is  every  thing 
that  is  beautiful  and  agreeable  !  That  is,  it  used  to  be !" 

16 


180  HELEN  LEESON: 

The  father  sighed,  and  both  mother  and  daughter  were 
eilent  for  some  time. 

The  bell  rang,  and  the  servant  girl  hastily  opening  the 
door,  admitted  Benjamin,  Mrs.  Murray's  colored  man,  who 
deposited  a  large  box  at  Miss  Orland's  feet,  saying — 

"  Missus  sends  her  compliments,  with  this  box,  and  much 
love  to  Miss  Grace,  and  hopes  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Orland  are 
well." 

"  Very  well,  Benjamin ;  many  thanks  to  Mrs.  Murray : 
my  daughter  will  go  to  see  her  to-morrow  morning." 

The  grinning  and  delighted  Benjamin  left  the  room. 

"  Grace,  why  do  you  not  open  that  box  ?"  added  Mr.  Or- 
land, as  he  laid  down  his  book,  convinced  that  Mrs.  Murray's 
present  would  afford  his  daughter  great  satisfaction. 

She  hesitated,  and  burst  into  tears. 

There  is  a  strong  kindred  feeling  between  the  noble 
hearts  of  this  world.  The  youifg  girl  knew  at  once  that 
the  kind  friend  had  sent  her  the  means  of  realizing  her 
fond  wish — of  appearing  in  a  suitable  dress  at  the  ball  on 
the  following  evening. 

"Well,  then,  I  shall  have  to  look,"  said  the  happy 
mother;  and  raising  the  lid  of  the  box,  she  displayed  to 
the  eyes  of  the  weeping  girl,  the  robes  of  the  Daisy  which 
Helen  had  selected,  and  which  Madame  Martin  had  imitated 
most  accurately  with  gauzes,  ribbons,  and  leaves. 

"How  beautiful!"  exclaimed  the  delighted  Grace. 

"  Exquisite !"  said  the  father ;  "  Mrs.  Murray  is  a  friend, 
indeed." 

"Here  is  a  note  for  you,  darling;  read  it  to  us,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Orland. 

She  read  with  a  tremulous  voice — 

"MY   OWN   LITTLE    GRACE: 

"I  could  not  have  enjoyed  my  flower-ball  without  your 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        181 

sweet  self.     Pray  come  to  me  to-morrow  in  your  usual 
character — the  Daisy.  Truly  yours, 

ANNE  MURRAY." 

"  Mother !  mother  !  can  any  thing  be  more  kind  and 
thoughtful?"  exclaimed  the  young  girl  as  she  pressed  the 
little  note  to  her  lips. 

Tears  glistened  in  Mr.  Orland's  eyes  as  he  said — 

"  Adversity  is  a  valuable  microscope ;  through  it  we 
discover  the  real  feelings  of  all  toward  us." 

The  next  morning,  as  soon  as  Grace  had  attended  to  the 
little  home  duties  which  she  shared  with  her  mother  in 
cheerful  contentment,  she  put  on  her  bonnet,  and  went  to 
Mrs.  Murray's. 

The  old  lady  was  at  breakfast  with  her  son.  A  smile 
appeared  on  her  benignant  countenance  as  the  young  girl 
entered. 

"  Dear,  dear  friend !"  said  Miss  Orland.  "  Did  you  think 
that  I  would  personate  the  Daisy,  here,  this  evening,  with- 
out thanking  you  first  as  modest  little  Grace  ?" 

"  I  am  indebted  to  you,  darling.  You  cannot  imagine 
how  delighted  I  have  been  to  have  the  dress  all  ready  with- 
out your  knowing  it.  Does  it  fit  well  ?  Madame  Martin 
made  it." 

"  It  fits  beautifully.     I  tried  it  on  last  evening.     It  is  so 

•  becoming!     Oh,"  she  added,   blushing,  "Mr.  George,  I 

forgot  you  were  there.     Now,  don't  laugh  at  me,  please." 

"  Why  not  ?  My  laughing  makes  you  blush,  and  that  is 
so  pretty,  you  know  !" 

"  I  don't !     Indeed,  it  is  very  ridiculous." 

"  Have  you  had  breakfast,  dear  child  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray, who  was  one  of  those  hostesses  in  constant  dread  of 
their  guests  not  meeting  with  a  welcome  sufficiently 
bountiful. 


182  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Oh  !  long  ago.  I  am  an  early  riser  now;  the  boys  have 
gone  to  school,  and  I  helped  mother  in  her  housekeeping." 

"  Well,  then,  don't  wait  here  for  me.  George,  take  her 
into  the  parlour,  and  show  her  the  result  of  your  last  night's 
labour." 

Grace  spent  an  hour  assisting  Mrs.  Murray  in  various 
final  arrangements,  and  then  consented  to  go  home  to  take 
a  nap  previous  to  the  fatigues  of  the  evening. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        183 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

NUMEROUS  were  the  fluttering  hearts  and  joyful  antici- 
pations on  the  night  of  Mrs.  Murray's  ball;  and  at  the 
usual  ridiculous  hour,  Flora's  children,  with  smiling  coun- 
tenances and  graceful  airs,  came  tripping  into  the  splendid 
drawing-rooms,  which  had  been  decorated  with  infinite  taste 
and  elegance  for  their  reception.  Not  one  jewel,  not  one 
diamond,  sparkled  upon  the  flowers  personified.  All  those 
glittering  ornaments  had  been  crowded  upon  the  mammas, 
whose  dark  velvets  and  satins  formed  a  beautiful  shade  to 
the  brilliant  picture. 

Mrs.  Murray  received  her  guests  with  her  usual  grace 
and  dignity,  bestowing  upon  each  a  word  of  praise  and 
thanks  for  their  willing  contribution  to  the  accomplishment 
of  her  original  idea,  which  stood  without  a  parallel  in  the 
annals  of  fashion. 

"  Good-evening,  noble  Lily,"  said  the  hostess,  address- 
ing Mrs.  Seyton,  who  bowed  in  solemn  grandeur,  and  then 
turning  suddenly  to  Mr.  Morris  and  several  others,  said — 
"Pray,  gentlemen,  spare  my  train." 

The  gorgeous  Tulip — Mtiss  Cora  Dalton — then  appeared, 
and  obtained  many  most  flattering  compliments. 

Augusta  Waring  wore  the  bewitching  colours  of  the 
Pomegranate. 

Julia  Elvington  personated  the  queen  of  flowers — the 
Rose. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  all  these  delicate  and 
fanciful  productions.  The  idea  of  the  poet  and  artist  had 

16* 


184  HELEN  LEESON: 

been  carried  out  as  accurately  as  possible.  All  had  copied 
Grandville's  creations,  and  the  effect  was  exquisite — far 
more  beautiful  than  any  fancy  ball. 

There  were  showers  of  smiling  Pink  and  White  Roses ; 
Geraniums  of  various  shades ;  Honeysuckles ;  Camelias, 
white  and  variegated ;  the  gorgeous  Dahlias,  and  the 
simple,  eccentric  Wild  Rose.  The  Orange-blossom,  in  its 
pure  white  robes ;  and  even  the  Narcissus  had  been  selected 
by  one  or  two  young  ladies,  who  had  forgotten,  or  had 
never  known,  the  fate  of  the  unfortunate  youth. 

The  fair  wearers  of  nature's  choicest  charms  were  borne 
around  the  dancing-room  in  strange  contrast  with  each 
other.  Well  might  it  have  been  said  of  them  what  Gav- 
arni  so  beautifully  expresses  of  such  an  assembly — 

"  A  ball  is  a  basket  of  ribbons  and  gauzes,  intermingled 
with  flowers — fresh,  faded,  and  artificial;  among  which 
flutter  a  swarm  of  black  butterflies  by  the  light  of  a  thou- 
sand candles  !" 

What  would  the  poet  have  said,  could  he  have  seen  the 
flowers  themselves  carried  away  by  the  black  butterflies 
and  keeping  time  to  the  delightful  music  ? 

And  where  was  Helen  in  that  brilliant  crowd  ? 

Eleven  o'clock  had  struck,  and  she  had  not  yet  made 
hor  appearance.  As  Robert  was  to  escort  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Grantly  had  come  without  her  niece,  resplendent  with 
diamonds,  and  attired  in  her  most  elegant  ball-dress 
Lord  Devere,  after  paying  his  tribute  of  admiration  to 
many  of  Flora's  children,  had  claimed  a  seat  near  Mrs. 
Grantly,  inquiring  in  a  particular  manner  about  Miss 
Leeson. 

"  Indeed,  my  lord,  I  am  quite  uneasy.  It  is  very  late," 
answered  the  lady. 

"  Yes,  and  my  nephew  is  disconsolate.     We  anticipated 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         185 

eo  much  pleasure  in  seeing  your  beautiful  niece  in  her  new 
character  !" 

"  Helen,  my  dear,  what  has  kept  you  so  late  ?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Murray,  as  she  came  forward  to  meet  her  young 
friend,  who  entered  the  parlour,  followed  by  Robert. 

"  Father  has  been  very  ill  all  day.  He  is  rather  better 
just  now,  or  I  should  not  have  left  him,"  replied  our  hero- 
ine, whose  pale  countenance  spoke  of  anxious  hours  arid 
care. 

But  that  very  paleness  increased  Helen's  matchless 
beauty,  as  she  stood  arrayed  in  the  mysterious  attributes 
of  the  Pensee  or  Heartsease. 

She  wore  a  long  flowing  robe  of  white  crape,  gathered 
around  the  waist  by  a  green  girdle,  from  which  hung,  with- 
out any  symmetry,  leaves  and  sprigs  of  the  plant.  The 
upper  part  of  the-  waist  was  partially  concealed  by  a  large 
Heartsease,  made  of  purple  velvet  and  gold-coloured  satin. 
The  sleeves  were  looped  up  with  a  smaller  flower,  and  to 
the  shoulders  were  attached  delicate  gossamer  wings.  A 
single  Pensee  was  placed  as  a  ferronni^re  on  Helen's  dark 
hair,  giving  her  countenance  a  peculiar  character  of  me- 
lancholy and  pensiveness,  which  was  remarkably  in  har- 
mony with  her  classical  features. 

"  Thought,  how  exquisite  thou  art !"  would  have  ex- 
claimed the  artist,  could  he  have  beheld  the  personification 
of  his  poetical  fancy. 

Helen  was  soon  surrounded  by  a  bevy  of  admirers,  all 
anxious  to  obtain  a  look,  a  smile,  or  the  more  valued  boon 
of  a  polka  or  redowa  from  the  reigning  belle. 

"  I  do  not  dance  this  evening,  Mr.  Marvell.  That  would 
not  be  in  keeping  with  my  character,"  said  Helen. 

"  What  is  more  active,  more  quick,  than  thought  ?"  an- 
swered the  disappointed  Harry. 


186  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Thought  flies,  Mr.  Marvell,  but  it  does  not  dance." 

"How  cruel!"  exclaimed  Sir  Archibald.  "Is  it  possi- 
ble. Miss  Leeson,  that  you  intend  making  us  all  miserable 
this  evening  ?" 

"  All !  I  am  not  vain  enough  to  fancy  myself  possessed 
of  such  power,  Sir  Archibald." 

"  Oh  !  who  does  not  acknowledge  that  power  ?"  whis- 
pered the  nobleman,  while  the  young  girl  turned  from 
his  amorous  gaze  to  meet  her  friend,  Emma  Grantly, 
saying— 

"  You  were  right,  dearest ;  this  is  a  sweetly  pretty 
dress  you  have  chosen.  These  dark  purple  petals  are  so 
becoming  to  your  light  hair,  and  that  noble  heart  of  yours 
lies  so  well  concealed  beneath  the  modest  foliage  of  the 
violet !  Where  is  Grace  ?  I  have  not  seen  her." 

"  Over  there,  dancing  with  young  Dallas,  who  seems  to 
think  very  highly  of  the  little  Daisy,"  said  Miss  Grantly. 
"  The  dress  is  very  becoming,  but  yours,  Helen,  is  the 
most  perfect  here." 

"  I  assure  you  that  it  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that  I  con- 
sented to  wear  it  this  evening.  Father  is  quite  ill.  The 
doctor  could  not  tell  what  was  the  matter  with  him.  Poor 
mother  is  very  much  alarmed ;  and  Laura  has  been  so  com- 
plaining that  aunt  is  most  anxious  about  her.  Trouble  on 
all  sides !  It  unfits  you  for  such  scenes  as  these." 

"  Yes,  but  is  not  this  a  wonderful  sight  ?  I  never  would 
have  supposed  it  could  be  accomplished  with  such  perfec- 
tion. We  are  greatly  indebted  to  Mrs.  Murray;"  and 
Emma  left  her  friend,  to  dance  with  Sydney  Morris,  after 
which  she  devoted  a  few  moments  to  an  agreeable  conver- 
sation with  M.  de  Cerny  and  Professor  Amory,  both  great 
admirers  of  the  animated  flowers. 

"  May  I  pay  homage  to  the  royal  Lily  ?"  asked  Marvell, 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         187 

occupying  the  seat  which  Allan  Dorsay  had  just  vacated, 
near  the  coquettish  little  widow. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  garden  sovereign,  "  if  it  is  an  enter- 
taining one.  I  never  could  tolerate  a  stupid  subject." 

"  Your  majesty  is  fastidious,  we  all  know,  and  many  a 
fine  speech  has  been  tortured  by  tne  sighing  vassal  before 
it  was  considered  worthy  of  being  spoken." 

"  You  were  a  long  time  composing  that  one,  Mr.  Mar- 
vell,"  added  Mrs.  Seyton,  laughing.  "  You,  the  very  per- 
fection of  fashionable  oratory !" 

"Wicked  as  a  queen,  wicked  as  a  woman;  but  so  be- 
witching with  this  regal  diadem !  Is  it  not  so,  Mac 
Tavish?" 

"  Of  course  !     But  why  repeat  what  all  know  so  well  ?" 

"Because  one  never  tires  of  hearing  it,"  answered  Mar- 
vell.  "  Have  you  noticed  Miss  Cora's  turban  ?  Her  dress 
is  magnificent — a  really  glittering  Tulip ;  but  I  do  not  ad- 
mire the  selection.  Oh  !  give  me  that  exquisite  little  Daisy, 
over  there ;  or  Miss  Grantly's  simple  dress ;  or  rather  Miss 
Leeson's  sublime  personification  !" 

"  She  is  beautiful,  no  doubt,  but  a  perfect  statue,  as 
though  she  said,  '  Here  I  am  ;  admire  me  !'  "  said  Mrs.  Sey- 
ton, who,  like  many  others,  was  rather  annoyed  by  Helen's 
supremacy  in  the  field  of  fascination. 

"  She  need  not  say  it,"  replied  Marvell.  "All  acknow- 
ledge it,  except  Miss  Helen  herself." 

"Mr.  Mac  Tavish,"  pursued  the  somewhat  offended 
Lily,  "  have  you  ever  studed  mythology  ?  Do  you  remem- 
ber the  fate  of  Narcissus  ?" 

Perceiving  that  one  of  those  flowers  was  dancing  near 
them,  the  polite  Scotchman  hesitated,  almost  willing  to  ap- 
pear ignorant,  sooner  than  wound  the  feelings  of  the  uncon- 
scious wearer  of  the  Narcissus. 


188  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  It  was  the  fate  of  many,  I  believe." 

"  That  is  no  answer." 

"Well,  he  was  in  love." 

"But  with  whom?  I  see  you  don't  know,"  persisted 
the  provoking  little  flirt. 

"  If  you  will  promise  not  to  frown,  I  will  tell  you,  Mrs. 
Seyton,  or  rather  proud  Lily,",  he  added,  in  a  whisper. 
"Narcissus  was  affected  in  the  very  same  manner  that 
some  pretty  women  are,  when  they  look  in  a  mirror  ;  and 
if  that  mirror  were  a  brook,  I  don't  know  of  any  thing  that 
could  save  them !" 

The  lady  had  too  much  wit  not  to  detect  the  lesson ; 
but  feeling  that  she  had  brought  it  upon  herself,  she  turned 
off  the  conversation,  much  to  the  relief  of  the  neighbouring 
Narcissus,  who  knew  that  if  she  was  noticed  by  Mrs.  Sey- 
ton, it  was  not  for  any  charitable  purpose. 

Mrs.  Grantly,  greatly  elated  by  the  particular  attentions 
of  Lord  Devere,  and  confident  of  the  fortunate  result  of 
her  favourite  scheme,  seemed  much  annoyed  by  the  cold 
manner  of  her  niece  toward  the  nobleman.  In  the  course 
of  the  evening  she  managed  to  whisper  to  the  young 
girl— 

"  Now  is  the  time,  Elly ;  the  prize  is  yours.  Be  but  a 
little  gracious,  and  Sir  Archibald  is  at  your  feet." 

Little  did  the  fine  lady  know  how  different  were  the  feel- 
ings of  her  niece  from  her  own  worldly  desires.  An  in- 
describable sensation  of  despondency,  of  resignation,  had 
crept  into  Helen's  heart.  She  cared  for  no  one,  for  no- 
thing. There  was  no  pride,  no  ambition  in  that  bosom,  so 
lately  a  prey  to  both.  A  calm,  soft  feeling  of  sadness  was 
its  only  inmate. 

It  was  quite  late — almost  two  o'clock.  The  daughters 
of  Flora  had  proved  their  humanity  by  duly  appreciating 


A    PEEP    AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  189 

the  many  delicacies  which  were  crowded  upon  a  magnificent 
supper-table. 

The  black  butterflies  had  offered  the  sparkling  cham- 
pagne to  their  smiling  partners,  and  the  German  cotillion 
— a  living  garland  of  flowers — was  at  its  height,  when 
Mrs.  Murray  came  up  to  Helen,  who  stood  surrounded 
with  admirers,  watching  the  graceful  figures  of  the  favour- 
ite dance. 

"If  these  gentlemen  will  spare  you  to  me  for  a  few 
minutes,  Miss  Leeson,"  she  said,  "  I  would  like  to  show 
you  a  piece  of  statuary  I  received  from  Paris  a  few  days 
ago." 

Helen  followed  the  hostess  into  the  library. 

In  one  corner  of  it  stood  a  marble  group,  representing 
Hope,  Faith,  and  Charity — the  most  exquisite  personifi- 
cation of  the  three  sisters.  To  render  the  effect  more  per- 
fect, the  artist  had  placed  in  the  hand  of  the  meek  and 
loving  Charity  a  shell,  intended  to  contain  the  offering  of 
those  who  could  not  resist  that  silent  appeal  to  their  no- 
bler feelings. 

And  when  Helen  looked  at  it,  the  shell  was  already 
filled  with  gold-pieces,  which,  no  doubt,  had  been  deposited 
there  through  the  beaming  intercession  of  some  bright 
eyes. 

"  Now  look  and  admire,  dear  child,  and  then  tell  me 
whether  Walter  is  not  a  man  of  taste  and  a  devoted  son, 
to  think  his  adopted  mother  worthy  of  such  a  gift  ?" 

Helen  answered  not,  but  contemplated  in  mute  admira- 
tion the  sublime  work  of  art. 

.  Mrs.  Murray,  satisfied  with  the  effect  produced  by  her 
favourite  fancy,  as  she  called  it,  left  the  room  for  a  mo- 
ment to  give  a  few  orders. 

Mac  Tavish,  who  was  naturally  curious  and  anxious  to 


190  HELEN  LEESON: 

share  in  the  pleasure  which  Mrs.  Murrry  had  promised  her 
young  guest,  soon  followed  into  the  library. 

Helen  was  still  looking  at  the  piece  of  statuary ;  and  as 
she  stood  resting  against  the  dark  velvet  curtain — so  mo- 
tionless, so  beautiful — the  young  Scotchman  gazed  from  the 
admirable  marble  group  to  the  animated  Pensee,  and  could 
scarcely  discover  which  was  the  more  perfect — nature's  or 
art's  creation. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Mac  Tavish !  is  that  you  ?"  exclaimed  the 
young  girl,  as  she  started  from  her  reverie.  "  Now  that 
we  are  alone,  will  you  not  tell  me  that  secret  which  puz- 
zled me  so  much  the  other  day?" 

"  I  will ;  but  you  must  promise  not  to  be  offended,"  he 
replied,  in  a  gentle,  almost  affectionate  tone,  but  so  re- 
spectful, that  it  could  not  be  mistaken  for  any  thing  but 
sincere  interest. 

"  Tell  me — do  !"  said  Helen,  with  a  slight  nervousness 
of  manner 

"  Well  !"  added  the  young  man,  with  hesitation,  "  I  do 
not  think  to-night  as  I  thought  six  weeks  ago,  when  I  said 
you  had  never  been  in  love." 

"  I  ?  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  ?  You  are  joking,  surely.  Pray, 
what  do  you  judge  from  ?"  asked  Helen,  with  a  faint 
smile. 

"  From  a  variety  of  circumstances ;  and  I  will  say 
more — The  happy  mortal  who  has  caused  that  matchless 
heart  to  flutter  is  not  here  to-night !" 

At  that  moment  Mrs.  Murray  came  in,  followed  by 
Robert,  who  was  in  search  of  his  sister. 

"It  is  late,  Elly,  and  mother  is  sitting  up,"  he  said; 
"come  !" 

"I  am  quite  ready.  Farewell,  Mrs.  Murray,"  she  added. 
"Many  thanks  for  this  delightful  evening!" 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  191 

"  I  have  not  offended  you,  I  hope  ?"  whispered  poor 
Eric,  as  he  escorted  Helen  to  her  carriage. 

"Oh,  no,"  was  the  answer. 

"Your  father  is  better,  my  children,"  said  Boget,  aa 
she  met  Robert  and  his  sister  at  the  door.  "  Go  to  bed 
quietly,  and  take  some  rest." 

Helen  went  up  to  her  room,  undressed  hastily,  and  lay 
down,  but  not  to  sleep.  A  thousand  visions  flitted  across 
her  bewildered  mind.  She  recalled  every  sensation  of 
the  evening — her  indifference  to  the  young  nobleman  ;  her 
rivetted  admiration  of  the  marble  group ;  every  word  ut- 
tered by  Mac  Tavish.  At  last,  racked  by  the  tumult  of 
her  thoughts,  the  young  girl  sat  up,  and  clasping  both 
hands  upon  her  burning  brow  and  then  on  her  beating 
heart,  she  exclaimed — 

"  It  cannot !  it  must  not !  it  shall  not  be !"  Then,  with 
a  wild  look  of  terror,  she  cried,  "  Oh !  it  is ;  I  feel  it  here 
— here,  in  this  broken  heart.  Walter,  thou  art  avenged  at 
last — I  love  thee  !"  And  burying  her  head  in  her  pillow, 
she  sobbed  violently. 

And  the  angel  of  love  and  peace  watched  over  the  sleep- 
ing girl,  driving  away  the  spirit  of  darkness  and  hatred 
who  had  dwelt  there  so  long. 

17 


192  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"A  CHANGE  came  o'er  the  spirit  of  my  dream."  L«t  hot 
those  to  whom  the  workings  of  the  human  heart  are  un- 
known, wonder  and  exclaim  at  the  apparently  sudd<m  change 
in  Helen's  feelings  toward  her  husband,  so  long  an  object 
of  bitterness  and  aversion.  It  had  been  very  gradual. 
Since  the  night  of  their  meeting  in  Herman  Smith's  par- 
lour, since  the  conviction  of  the  immense  debt  of  gratitude 
which  her  brother  owed  Walter  had  flashed  upon  her  mind, 
Helen  had  somewhat  relented.  Her  noble  nature  recoiled 
against  denying  the  benefit  received,  even  from  one  con- 
demned by  previous  offence.  And  as  the  harsh  feeling  of 
hatred  and  contempt  subsided,  a  meeker,  more  gentle  spirit 
of  pity  and  charity  replaced  it.  Robert's  account  of  Wal- 
ter's devotion,  and  Mrs.  Murray's  affecting  eulogium  of  his 
many  virtues,  had  contributed  greatly  to  produce  that 
blessed  result  which  Mac  Tavish's  penetration  had  detected, 
and  which  had  burst  upon  the  young  girl's  unconsciousness 
in  so  violent  a  manner. 

Helen  had  never  loved :  her  position  in  society,  her  great 
beauty,  her  acknowledged  claims  as  the  belle  of  belles,  had 
surrounded  her  with  so  much  adulation  and  homage,  that 
there  probably  had  been  no  room  left  in  the  young  girl's 
heart  for  that  all-engrossing  sensation,  which  seeks  but  the 
society  of  the  favoured  one.  Pride — who.se  influence  had 
been  so  great  over  Helen's  mind — had  crushed  every  appeal 
of  a  softer  nature.  Thus  it  was  that  no  precedent  stood  in 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  193 

her  memory,  by  which  she  could  detect  the  true  nature  of 
her  feelings  toward  Walter ;  and  thus  it  was  that  the  first 
dawn  of  that  holy  affection  which  chance  and  mystery  had 
made  his,  filled  the  young  heart  with  unknown  and  inde- 
scribable bliss.  Woman's  nature  in  its  purity  is  so  sublime, 
BO  beautiful ! 

It  was  a  welcome  morning,  that  upon  which,  after  a  calm 
Bleep,  Helen  awoke  to  a  new  existence. 

"  Walter,"  she  whispered,  as  her  mind  gradually  collected 
the  events,  the  impressions  of  the  preceding  night — "  Wal- 
ter, I  love  you.  But  how  cruel  I  have  been  !  Oh  !  how 
unmindful  of  the  treasure  Providence  had  bestowed  upon 
me !  So  noble,  so  good,  so  miserable  !  If  I  could  only 
kneel  and  claim-  that  pardon  I  so  long  refused  to  grant ! 
My  only  love  born  of  my  only  hate  !  Well  may  I  say  it . 
with  the  unfortunate  Juliet — '  God  grant  that  I  may  atone 
for  the  suffering  I  have  caused !'  "  she  added,  as  she  rose, 
and,  for  the  first  time,  remembered  her  father's  illness  and 
danger. 

Mr.  Leeson  had,  in  fact,  been  violently  attacked  by  a 
disease  which  Dr.  Clifford  detected  at  once,  and  which,  as 
the  patient  knew  well,  was  an  incurable  one. 

The  spell  had  been  short,  but  of  a  nature  to  alarm  Mrs. 
Leeson  considerably,  and  she  endeavoured  to  obtain  from 
the  good  doctor  some  knowledge  of  the  evil  which  threat- 
ened her  husband's  life.  But,  as  soon  as  the  violence  of 
the  suffering  had  subsided,  Mr.  Leeson,  restored  to  con- 
sciousness, had  required  of  the  physician  that  his  family 
should  be  kept  in  total  ignorance  of  the  real  state  of  hia 
health;  "For  reasons,"  he  added,  "which  were  of  great 
importance  to  him ;"  and,  not  being  willing  to  assume  any 
responsibility,  Doctor  Clifford  had  evaded  all  explanation 
on  the  subject. 


194  HELEN  LEESON: 

After  breakfast,  Helen,  with  a  lighter  heart  than  she 
had  felt  for  many  days,  sat  some  time  with  her  father,  en- 
tertaining him  with  a  graphic  description  of  Mrs.  Murray's 
ball,  and  of  the  fanciful  dresses  worn  by  the  flowers  per- 
sonified. 

"It  must  have  been  a  fine  sight,  indeed!"  said  the  in- 
valid, with  an  unusually  kind  smile.  Acute  suffering  and 
a  distant  glimpse  of  eternity  had  softened  the  harsh  spirit. 
"And  did  you  dance  with  Sir  Archibald,  darling?" 

"  I  did  not  dance  at  all :  I  was  too  uneasy  about  you, 
dear  father,  and  it  would  not  have  been  in  keeping  with 
my  character — the  flower  of  thought." 

"True,  very  true,"  was  the  answer;  "but  I  wish  you 
would  smile  upon  Sir  Archibald,  Helen." 

"Father,"  said  the  young  girl,  in  a  solemn,  earnest 
tone,  "  if  I  were  to  tell  you  that  I  love  some  one  else, 
would  you  urge  me  to  marry  Lord  Devere's  nephew  ?" 

"  I  would  not ;  God  forbid  !  There  are  sins  enough  to 
my  account  in  heaven  !"  muttered  the  unhappy  man. 

"  Then  never  mention  that  name  to  me,  dearest,"  she 
said,  fondly  kissing  her  father  ;  "  for  I  do  love,  with  all 
the  powers  of  my  soul,  one  who  is  worthy  of  my  affec- 
tion !" 

"  Tell  me,  who  ?"  added  the  anxious  man. 

"Not  now.     One  of  these  days  I  will!" 

And  as  Mrs.  Leeson  and  Anna  then  came  in  to  keep 
the  invalid's  company,  Helen  went  out  to  see  Aunt  Seraph 
arid  Laura,  who  was  still  confined  to  the  house. 

"  How  kind  in  you  to  come  to  us  !  Now  tell  me  about 
the  ball,"  said  the  young  countess,  offering  her  cousin  a 
seat  near  her.  "Did  it  equal  your  expectations?" 

"  It  far  exceeded  them.  I  had  no  idea  our  ladies  fiad 
BO  much  taste,  and  fancied  still  less  that  the  unworthy 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         195 

daughters  of  humanity  could  personate  so  well  the  lovely 
children  of  the  earth." 

"  I  was  so  distressed  at  not  seeing  you,  Elly,  in  your 
novel  attire  !  When  I  am  better,  you  must  really  favour 
me  with  a  sight  of  your  sweet  self  as  you  looked  last 
evening.  Now,  aunt,  that  we  have  her  here  all  to  our- 
selves, shall  we  mention  the  subject  you  and  I  have  been 
so  intent  upon  for  the  last  two  weeks?" 

"  Of  course  ;  and  I  will  not  take  a  refusal,  Helen.  If 
your  father  is  well,  you  must  not  say  no." 

"  I  never  feel  inclined  to  answer  any  of  your  sugges- 
tions with  a  negative,  aunt ;  and  unless  this  one  is  a  very 
unexecutable  one,  I  don't  see  why  it  should  have  that 
fate." 

"  Because  there  may  be  attractions  here,  which  our  se- 
ductions could  not  equal.  In  short,  dear  child,  Laura  and 
I  are  going  to  Europe  on  the  first  of  May,  and  we  insist 
upon  having  your  precious  company.  All  at  my  expense, 
of  course." 

A  look  of  inexpressible  joy  beamed  in  Helen's  eyes. 
Her  first  thought  was  his  ! 

"  If  mother  and  father  approve,"  she  said,  "  nothing  in 
this  world  could  give  me  so  much  pleasure ;  and  I  am  not 
too  proud  now,  Aunt  Seraph,  to  accept  such  a  favour 
from  you." 

"  I  knew  she  would  go  !"  exclaimed  Laura,  delighted. 
"  Now  we  shall  have  to  take  that  lazy  Robert  to  escort 
us.  He  will  not  object  to  a  trip,  I  am  sure." 

"  It  will  benefit  the  poor  boy,"  said  Helen  ;  "  his  con- 
duct, of  late,  has  caused  us  all  great  anxiety." 

Miss  Marsy  left  the  room  to  attend  to  some  domestic 
details. 

"  Will  you  really  be  pleased  to  go  to  Europe  with  us  ?" 

17* 


196  HELEN  LEESON: 

asked  the  young  countess,  supposing  that  the  dread  of 
meeting  Walter  would  prove  an  annoyance  to  her  cousin. 

"  Of  course,"  was  the  answer.  Helen  was  tempted  to 
avow  the  change  which  had  so  lately  taken  place  in  her 
feelings  toward  the  young  man,  but  shame  and  pride  fet- 
tered the  will,  and  she  turned  off  the  conversation,  leaving 
Laura  still  under  her  first  impression. 

"Early  as  it  may  appear,"  continued  the  countess,  "  I 
have  already  received  a  visit  from  Mrs.  Walker.  The  old 
lady  was  on  one  of  her  charitable  missions,  and  came  to 
claim  a  little  donation  I  had  promised  her.  She  sat  some 
time  with  me.  I  hesitated  and  reflected  half  an  hour,  and 
finally  told  her  all  about  Alice's  foolish  affair  with  Allan 
Dorsay.  She  was  much  shocked,  and  at  first  was  rather 
severe  in  her  criminations  ;  but  hers  is  a  mind  too  noble, 
too  upright,  not  to  acknowledge  its  errors.  She  said  that 
she  felt  her  brother  and  herself  had  been  to  blame,  in  de- 
priving the  young  girl  of  the  innocent  amusements  which 
her  buoyant  disposition  requires,  and  that  she  would  be 
more  lenient  in  future.  "  You  see,"  continued  Laura, 
smiling,  "  I  have  considerably  improved  our  little  Friend's 
prospects." 

"  Now,  let  us  talk  of  ourselves,  Elly.  We  have  but  three 
weeks  to  spare.  The  first  of  May  will  be  here  before  we 
are  aware  of  it,  and  a  great  deal  must  be  done  in  that  short 
space  of  time.  I  have  several  persons  to  see — various  ar- 
rangements to  make ;  for  the  Lord  only  knows  whether  I 
shall  ever  return  to  America." 

"Laura,  Laura,  don't  talk  thus!"  exclaimed  Helen. 
"Why  should  you  not  come  home  with  us?" 

"  Why,  dearest?"  said  the  young  countess  with  a  celes- 
tial smile.  "  Because  God  calls  me  to  a  brighter  home. 
Weep  not.  Mine  is  a  happy  lot.  I  tasted  of  the  unalloyed 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  197 

bliss  which  Providence  sometimes  grants  the  exiled  mortal ; 
and  had  it  remained  within  my  grasp,  no  voice  from  heaven, 
could  have  weaned  me  from  this  land  of  passage.  But  the 
bright  light  which  illuminated  my  path  was  withdrawn,  and 
total  darkness  succeeded.  Words  cannot  express  the  an- 
guish, the  agony  of  that  fatal  hour.  But  it  was  salutary. 
It  awoke  me  to  a  true  sense  of  our  destiny  as  Christians, 
as  followers  of  the  suffering  Saviour.  I  felt  that  happiness 
too  perfect  could  not  prepare  us  for  the  enjoyment  of  the 
reward  in  store  for  us,  and  I  blessed  the  blow  which  had 
crushed  my  mortal  treasures,  that  I  might  seek  the  joys  of 
eternity.  Two  links  alone  still  bind  me  here  below — poor 
Aunt  Seraph,  too  old  to  spare  me,  and  my  precious  child, 
too  young  to  be  deprived  of  my  maternal  care,"  added  the 
young  widow,  as  the  tears  glistened  in  her  eyes.  "  For 
you,  niy  sister,  Providence  has  reserved  many  blessings,  I 
trust ;  and  to  you,  Helen,  I  bequeath  the  care  of  the  dear 
ones  whom  I  shall  leave  thus  alone.  But,"  continued 
Laura,  "I  am  anticipating  the  worst.  Perhaps  many 
months  may  still  be  mine.  Dry  up  your  tears,  darling. 
Do  not  let  aunt  see  that  we  have  spoken  of  the  evil  she 
dares  not  acknowledge  to  herself." 

After  spending  an  hour  at  Miss  Marsy's,  Helen  returned 
to  her  home  with  a  heavy  heart.  The  joy  of  the  morning 
had  been  blighted  by  the  conversation  with  Laura,  to  whom 
she  was  sincerely  attached.  But  how  powerful  are  the 
benignant  eiforts  of  Hope  at  that  early  period  of  life! 
"  She  may  be  mistaken,"  thought  the  young  girl.  "  This 
trip  to  Europe  will  restore  her  health.  At  Laura's  age 
there  are  so  many  chances  of  a  change  for  the  better ;" 
and  partially  reassured  about  her  cousin,  Helen  gave  her- 
self up  entirely  to  the  dream  of  love  which  had  just  dawned 
upon  her. 


198  HELEN  LEESON: 

"Is  not  this  aunt's  day  for  the  matinee  dansante?" 
asked  Anna  Leeson,  as  she  entered  her  sister's  room,  the 
next  morning. 

"  Yes,  unfortunately !  I  am  heartily  tired  of  all  this 
dissipation." 

"  You  will  enjoy  a  complete  rest  while  you  are  abroad, 
sister.  How  we  shall  miss  you !  Papa  was  reluctant  to 
allow  you  to  go,  but  he  finally  gave  up  to  our  arguments. 
You  will  have  a  delightful  time,  I  dare  say." 

"  That  depends  considerably  upon  circumstances,"  said 
Helen.  "  I  scarcely  think  that  I  shall  be  satisfied,  away 
from  you  all." 

"  Oh  !  with  Robert  and  Laura  you  will.  Now,  don't  let 
me  interrupt  you;  I  came  in  to  help  you  dress." 

"Anna,"  said  Helen,  after  reflecting  a  moment,  "how 
is  Jane  Kelly  ?" 

"Very  low,  indeed.  Dr.  Clifford  don't  think  she  can 
live  long." 

"  Poor  thing !  I  would  really  like  to  see  her  again ;  she 
is  so  resigned,  such  a  patient  sufferer." 

"  Yes ;  a  true  Christian.  I  promised  to  see  her  this 
morning,  and  if  you  choose,  I  will  tell  her  you  intend  going 
there  to-morrow." 

"Yes,  I  will  do  so.  Now,  Puss,  ring  for  Sophie.  I 
must  get  ready  for  that  stupid  reception." 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         199 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

AGAIN  the  votaries  of  fashion  met  at  Mrs.  Grantly'a 
princely  mansion. 

In  the  spring,  when  the  gay  are  wearied  with  the  ex- 
hausting dissipation  which  has  incurred  loss  of  rest,  fre- 
quently ot  health,  and  so  much  wear  and  tear  of  mind  and 
body,  some  new  mode  of  amusement  (of  spending  that  valu- 
able time  which  is  gold  to  the  active  ones  of  this  world, 
and  which  hangs  like  lead  upon  the  unemployed)  must  be 
devised.  To  this  emergency  the  fluttering  beaux  and  belles 
owe  the  introduction  of  those  matinees  which,  of  late,  have 
become  so  fashionable,  and  which,  added  to  many  other 
charms,  possess  that  of  affording  our  ladies  an  opportunity 
for  the  display  of  their  elegant  spring  toilets. 

Mrs.  Grantly,  unconscious  of  the  mysterious  workings 
of  Helen's  strange  fate,  and  confident  in  the  success  of  her 
long-woven  web,  had  anxiously  anticipated  this  morning 
reception,  which  would,  she  thought,  most  certainly  bring 
forth  the  realization  of  all  her  hopes.  Thus  it  was  that 
with  unusual  grace  and  high  spirits  the  lady  received  her 
guests,  giving  her  welcome  to  Lord  Devere  and  his  nephew 
that  peculiar  tinge  of  affability  which  implies  a  strong  in- 
clination for  a  closer  intimacy.  His  lordship  understood 
and  appreciated  the  favour ;  but  Sir  Archibald,  somewhat 
discouraged  by  Helen's  coolness  of  manner,  cast  a  timid 
glance  at  a  bevy  of  fair  competitors  in  search  of  the  prize 
he  was  so  anxious  to  win. 

it  was  some  time  before  the  young  man  could  discover 


200  HELEN   LEESON: 

Helen's  retreat.  She  bad  joined  Mrs.  Murray  in  the  bou- 
doir, and  with  an  eager  ear  listened  to  her  account  of 
Walter's  travels,  and  to  the  heartfelt  praise  which  the  kind 
friend  bestowed  upon  him. 

"  Yes,"  continued  the  old  lady,  "  lie  is  the  one  to  insure  a 
woman's  happiness — to  make  her  heart  beat  with  pride. 
If  I  could  only  see  him  marry  one  that  would  resemble  you, 
Helen !  Would  that  you  could  become  my  own  or  my 
adopted  daughter!"  added  Mrs.  Murray,  as  she  gazed 
upon  the  lovely  countenance  so  full  of  hope  and  trust. 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Sir 
Archibald  and  several  other  persons. 

The  young  nobleman  advanced  toward  Helen,  saying — 
"You  will  not  refuse  to  dance  to-day,  Miss  Leeson,  I 
hope." 

Having  no  excuse  to  give,  Helen  assented,  and  the  re- 
mainder of  the  morning  was  spent  in  the  dancing-room, 
much  to  her  annoyance ;  for  she  took  no  interest  in  the 
gayety  around  her,  and  longed  for  the  time  when  she  could 
indulge  in  the  sweet  reverie  of  her  new-born  happiness. 

Toward  five  o'clock,  chance — or  rather  some  cunning 
manoeuvre  of  Mrs.  Grantly's — brought  Helen  and  Sir 
Archibald,  her  partner,  for  the  second  time  into  the  bou- 
doir, and  suddenly  they  were  left  alone. 

"Miss  Leesop,"  said  the  young  man  hurriedly,  "hear 
me  one  moment.  In  vain  have  I  sought  an  opportunity  of 
expressing  my  sentiments  to  you.  Oh  !  stay,  and  answer 
but  this  one  question.  Can  you,  will  you  be  mine  ?" 

"  Sir  Archibald,"  answered  the  young  girl,  nervous  and 
annoyed,  "  I  was  in  hopes  that  my  manner  toward  you 
would  have  saved  us  both  this  awkward  meeting.  I  feel 
honoured  by  your  choice,  but  cannot  dispose  of  a  heart 
which  is  not  my  own.  Forget  that  you  ever  loved  me,  and 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        201 

grant  me  a  friendship  which  I  shall  always  value  very 
highly  !" 

The  young  man  knelt  and  pressed  Helen's  hand  to  his  lips. 
"Oh!  I  am  miserable,  unfortunate!"  he  added;  "you 
were  my  only  love  !" 

"A  tete-il-tete  !"  said  Mrs.  Seyton,  as  she  came  in,  lean- 
ing on  Marvell's  arm.  "I  hope  I  have  not  intruded," 
added  the  little  widow,  with  a  meaning  smile. 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  Helen,  recovering  her  presence  of 
inind ;  "  Sir  Archibald  was  describing  a  presentation  to  the 
queen." 

"  Of  hearts  ?" 

"  No ;  of  Great  Britain,  or  of  the  kingdom  of  Flora." 

"Very  graphic,  I  dare  say.  Before  I  forget  it,  Sir 
Archibald,  let  me  request  you  to  keep  yourself  disengaged 
for  next  Thursday.  I  expect  a  few  friends  at  my  country 
residence  on  Staten  Island.  You  will  meet  this  fair  lady. 
Helen  I  depend  upon  you.  It  will  be  your  farewell  appear- 
ance as  the  belle  of  the  season." 

"  I  shall  grieve  to  part  with  my  friends,  but  the  loss  of 
that  title  will  not  cost  me  much  regret,  as  I  was  not  aware 
of  having  borne  or  deserved  it." 

"  Modesty  lends  a  great  charm  to  intrinsic  merit,"  said 
Marvell.  "  We  will  miss  you  terribly,  Miss  Helen ;  but  your 
thoughts  will  be  so  much  engrossed  by  the  wonders  of  the 
Old  World,  that  you  will  scarcely  think  of  the  sighing  ad- 
n  irers  at  home." 

During  this  conversation,  Sir  Archibald  had  somewhat 
recovered  from  his  disappointment ;  and  anxious  to  be 
diverted  from  the  painful  impressions  produced  by  Helen's 
rejection  of  his  offer,  he  gladly  submitted  to  the  seductions 
of  Julia  Elvington  and  Cora  Dalton,  whom  he  met  in  the 
conservatory. 


202  HELEN  LEESON: 

A  lowering  cloud  on  Mrs.  Grantly's  countenance,  as  she 
approached  her  niece,  announced  to  her  that  the  little  oc- 
currences of  the  boudoir  were  not  unknown  to  her.  The 
young  girl's  avowal  of  another  affection  had  struck  dismay 
into  the  heart  of  the  crest-fallen  aunt.  But  Mrs.  Grantly 
was  too  selfish  to  feel  much  concerned  about  an  interest 
not  materially  affecting  her  welfare;  and  as  that  was  re- 
stricted to  her  own  person,  few  were  the  opportunities 
upon  which  the  tender  feelings  of  the  heartless  woman 
were  brought  into  requisition. 

"  What  care  I,  after  all  ?"  she  said.  "  Let  them  manage 
it  themselves.  But,"  she  added,  with  a  sigh,  "it  would 
have  sounded  so  very  harmoniously !  My  niece,  Lady 
Courtnay  !" 

Faithful  to  the  promise  she  had  sent  Jane  Kelly,  Helen 
went  to  see  her  on  the  following  day. 

With  a  beating  heart,  the  young  girl  entered  the  lodgings 
where,  six  months  before,  she  had  heard  that  conversation 
between  the  afflicted  woman  and  the  child  of  her  love 
and  devotion.  And  now  she  found  poor  Jane  stretched  out 
on  her  bed  of  suffering,  meek  and  resigned,  awaiting  the 
call  which  would  sever  the  fetters  that  bound  her  to  a  life 
of  bitter  trial. 

"How  kind  in  you,  dear  young  lady,"  she  said,  "to 
think  of  a  poor  .creature  like  me  !  Miss  Anna,  who  never 
goes  into  society,  and  lives  in  deeds  of  charity,  can  give 
her  time  to  others.  But  you,  miss — so  courted,  so  admired, 
the  belle,  as  your  sweet  sister  calls  you — have  no 
moments  to  spare,  and  I  am  doubly  thankful  for  your  visit, 
now  that  my  boy  is  gone,  I  am  so  much  alone  !"  Fatigued 
by  this  long  speech,  the  poor  creature  closed  her  eyes  and 
seemed  quite  exhausted. 

•  Jane,"  said  Helen,  as  she  sat  near  the  bed  of  sickness, 


tt. 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  203 

"  is  there  nothing  I  could  do  for  you?  Nothing  that  could 
comfort  you  in  this  sad  hour  ?" 

"Alas!  no,  dear  lady,"  murmured  the  old  woman,  ap- 
parently sinking  fast. 

Alarmed,  Helen  rose' and  called  the  girl,  but  she  had 
gone  out  on  some  errand.  She  returned  to  the  patient, 
and  repeated  gently — 

"Jane!  speak  to  me.  I  need  not  remind  you  of  the 
joys  of  heaven,  which  shall  be  yours  very  soon ;  Anna 
must  have  described  them  to  you  in  her  own  eloquent 
language." 

•'  Oh,  yes  !"  muttered  the  sick  woman  ;  "  I  know  all  that, 
but  my  heart  aches  at  the  idea  of  my  boy's  trouble.  His 
last  farewell  was  so  sad !  Oh,  if  I  knew  he  was  happy,  I 
should  die  in  peace."  And  large,  pearly  drops  clouded 
the  almost  vacant  glance. 

A  blessed  thought  of  comfort  shot  across  Helen's  mind. 
She  leaned  over  the  dying  woman,  and  said — "  Jane,  Wal- 
ter is  happy ;  he  loves  me ;  I  am  his  wife  ;  and  in  a  few 
months,  with  God's  mercy,  we  will  be  united." 

An  expression  of  doubt  appeared  on  the  pale  counte- 
nance, but  there  was  truth  in  the  tremulous  voice  of  the 
young  girl,  and  a  ray  of  joy  brightened  the  emaciated  face — • 

"  Happy  !  my  boy  !  0  Lord,  I  thank  thee  !"  and  the 
spirit  fled  to  heaven,  bearing  the  joyful  tidings  to  the  angels 
above. 

Helen  gazed  on  the  lifeless  features  for  a  few  moments, 
and  the  tears  fell  fast  upon  the  cold  hand  which  had  clasped 
hers  in  the  last  struggle.  She  knelt  and  prayed  fervently 
that  peace  might  be  granted  to  the  departed  one,  whose 
submission  and  patience  had  deserved  the  holy  reward. 
Nor  was  Walter  forgotten  in  that  solemn  moment ;  there, 
in  the  presence  of  death,  the  weeping  girl  took  the  sacred 

18 


204  HELEN  LEESON: 

engagement  of  devoting  herself  to  the  happiness  of  the 
beloved  one,  whose  life  had  been  so  filled  with  sorrow  caused 
by  the  guilt  of  her  own  father.  "  Grant,  0  Lord,"  she 
muttered,  "  that  this  generation  may  atone  for  the  sins  of 
the  last !" 

When  Helen  went  home,  she  sent  Mrs.  Boget  to  make 
all  the  arrangements  for  Jane's  funeral.  She  felt  in  duty 
bound  to  acquit  Walter's  debt  of  gratitude  toward  the 
friend  of  his  childhood. 

A  few  days  after,  both  sisters  repaired  to  the  lodgings 
of  the  poor  woman  to  dispose  of  her  earthly  goods.  A3 
she  had  no  heirs,  her  furniture  and  clothes  were  given 
to  several  of  her  neighbours  as  destitute  as  she  had  been 
herself.  Among  some  papers  which  Helen  was  examining, 
while  Anna  had  gone,  with  the  little  servant,  to  deliver  a 
bundle  of  clothes,  she  found  a  small  parcel,  around  which 
a  ribbon  was  tied  with  great  care.  It  was  addressed  to 
"Mrs.  Jane  Kelly,  from  W.  G." 

With  a  trembling  hand,  the  young  girl  opened  the 
package.  It  contained  a  daguerreotype  of  Walter,  and  a 
note,  in  which  he  had  enclosed  a  lock  of  his  hair. 

"According  to  your  request,  my  dear  Jane,"  wrote  Wal- 
ter, "  I  send  you  myself,  and  one  of  the  locks  you  so  en- 
joyed curling  in  old  times.  Farewell,  dear  friend ;  think 
of  EC,  and  pray  for  your  boy.  WALTER." 

"This  is  mine — my  own!"  exclaimed  Helen,  as  she 
pressed  the  likeness  to  her  lips ;  and,  concealing  the  valu- 
able links  which  seemed  to  bind  her  still  more  closely  to 
her  husband,  she  continued  her  charitable  task.  No 
amount  of  wealth  could  have  purchased  the  treasures  which 
Providence  had  granted  to  her  in  so  unforeseen  a  manner, 
and  which  were  cherished  so  fondly,  so  ardently,  by  her 
loving  heart. 


'A   PEEP   AT   NEW  YORK   SOCIETY.  205 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

IT  was  not  without  considerable  reluctance  that  Mr. 
Leeson  had  given  his  consent  to  Helen's  trip  to  Europe. 
Knowing  that  he  had  not  many  months  to  live,  the  wretched 
father  was  loath  to  part  with  the  sunbeam  of  his  waning 
journey.  Since  the  violent  attack  which  had  so  alarmed 
his  family,  a  great  change  had  come  over  the  guilty  man. 
The  racking  passions  which  had  so  long  mastered  his  feel- 
ings had  given  place  to  an  all-absorbing  despair  at  the 
thought  of  leaving  his  children  an  appalling  inheritance 
of  ruin  and  disgrace.  There  was  no  pride  now,  in  that 
agonized  being.  Grief,  in  its  dismal,  comfortless  horrors, 
visited  the  sleepless  pillow ;  and  night  after  night  the  pa- 
tient, devoted  wife  watched  the  tortures  of  that  soul  which 
heaven  seemed  to  have  abandoned  to  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness. But  the  time  was  not  far  distant  when  her  claim 
upon  the  ever-just  Providence  would  be  acknowledged,  and 
through  its  mediation  peace  was  to  be  purchased  for  the 
erring  sinner. 

As  Mr.  Leeson  was  not  confined  to  the  house,  the  world 
knew  nothing  of  the  sufferings  which  had  become  a  portion 
of  his  life ;  and  Helen  could  not  refuse  several  farewell  in- 
vitations which  were  forced  upon  her  by  sincere  or  seeming 
friends.  Mrs.  Murray  gave  her  a  beautiful  dinner,  which 
would  have  afforded  the  young  girl  great  pleasure,  had  not 
her  mind  been  distracted  by  the  trials  of  the  dear  ones  at 
home.  Again  the  old  lady  spoke  of  Walter — of  her  affec- 
tion for  him ;  and  each  day  strengthened  the  love  which 


206  HELEN  LEESON: 

had  struggled  so  for  admittance  into  Helen's  heart,  and 
which  was  now  all-powerful.  She  loved  him  for  all  the 
hatred  she  had  home  him — for  all  the  agony  he  had  endured 
from  it.  But  where  was  he  ?  Would  they  ever  meet  ? 
Might  not  some  unforeseen  accident  blight  her  hudding  hap- 
piness ?  Many  a  lonely  hour  was  spent  in  these  medita- 
tions, and  a  cloud  still  hung  over  the  bright  dawn  of  hope. 

Mrs.  Seyton's  fete-champetre  was  creating  quite  a  sen- 
sation in  the  fashionable  world.  Her  wealth  and  acknow- 
ledged good  taste  afforded  matter  for  brilliant  anticipations ; 
and  the  competitors  for  Sir  Archibald's  favour,  who  had 
noticed  the  evident  breach  between  himself  and  Helen, 
were  active  in  devising  the  means  of  captivating  the  young 
nobleman.  Cora  Dalton,  confident  of  success,  had  given  a 
splendid  fete  at  her  uncle's  princely  residence,  and  the 
young  man  had  openly  expressed  his  admiration  of  the 
hostess  and  her  elegant  entertainment ;  but  as  yet  he  seemed 
undecided,  and  spoke  of  returning  to  England  on  the  first 
of  May.  This  arrangement  suited  neither  the  sanguine 
Cora,  nor  the  more  profound  manoeuverer,  Mrs.  Seyton, 
who,  in  a  very  sly  manner,  was  gradually  winning  the  de- 
votion of  the  old  lord,  for  the  express  purpose  of  possessing 
the  only  missing  jewel  to  her  gilded  coronet — the  title  of 
Lady  Devere. 

"  How  good  and  thoughtful  in  you,  Elly,  to  have  sug- 
gested our  spending  this  morning  at  Allbreeze  !"  said  Anna 
to  her  sister,  as  both  were  putting  on  their  bonnets. 

"  Here  I  am  !"  exclaimed  Alice  Irving,  as  she  entered. 
"  Quite  ready,  girls?  Anna,  you  and  I  are  to  accompany 
Laura  and  Miss  Marsy,  are  we  not  ?" 

,  "  Yes ;  and  Mrs.  Murray  will  call  for  Helen.  She  has 
promised  to  spend  an  hour  with  us,  and  then  they  will  both 
go  to  Mrs.  Seyton's.  A  very  nice  arrangement,  but  I  can- 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  207 

not  bear  to  leave  mamma  alone :  we  could  not  induce  her 
to  go  with  us." 

"Mother  is  coming  in  to  sit  with  Mrs.  Leeson,"  said 
Alice.  "  I  told  her  she  had  refused  to  be  one  of  our 
party.  What  a  delightful  time  we  shall  have  !"  continued 
the  happy  girl,  as  she  went  down  stairs,  followed  by  the 
tottering  Anna. 

Mrs.  Murray  called  for  Helen  a  few  minutes  afterward. 

"  What  a  comfort  it  is  for  me  to  have  you  all  to  myself 
for  an  hour  !  and  how  I  shall  enjoy  seeing  your  country 
residence,  of  which  I  have  heard  so  much  !"  said  the  old 
lady. 

"  If  I  were  not  going  off  this  spring,  I  should  have 
claimed  you  for  a  few  days,  dear  madam.  Your  society 
always  affords  me  so  much  pleasure — so  much  to  learn 
and  to  appreciate !" 

"  You  flatter  me,  Helen ;  and  true  friendship  admits  not 
of  that  gilded  praise." 

"  Say  not  so ;  and,  do  believe  me,  my  happiest  hours 
within  the  last  few  weeks  have  been  spent  in  your  society." 

"  Well,  if  I  judge  you  by  myself,  I  shall  think  you  are 
indeed  sincere ;  and  the  thought  of  parting  with  you  is 
painful,  indeed ;  particularly  as  you  might  meet  with  some 
European  charmer,  who  would  detach  you  from  your  Ameri- 
can home." 

"Don't  fear  that,"  said  Helen,  smiling;  "there  are 
links  in  my  heart  which  bind  me  too  closely  to  my  native 
land." 

"  Links  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Murray. 

"  Ask  me  not  more  now.  I  will  confide  my  little  weak- 
nesses to  you  in  the  fall,  when  I  return  laden  with  brilliant 
souvenirs  of  the  wonders  of  past  ages." 

"  You  intend  remaining  some  time  in  Paris,  do  you  not  ?'* 

18* 


208  HELEN  LEESON: 

continued  the  kind  friend.  "  I  must  give  you  a  lettei 
for  a  charming  person,  Madame  de  Mornay,  who  will,  1 
know,  be  an  agreeable  acquisition.  She  is  a  Creole  lady, 
who  has  resided  many  years  in  France.  I  have  but  one 
dread  in  giving  you  an  introduction  to  her.  It  is  on  ac- 
count of  her  son  Gustave — as  fine  and  noble  a  fellow  as  I 
ever  met  anywhere,  and  who,  as  I  mentioned  just  now,  will 
try  his  best  to  captivate  my  Heartsease." 

"  He  cannot  do  it,  dear  Mrs.  Murray.  That  power  no 
man  possesses,  I  assure  you." 

"  Well,  well,  I  hope  not ;  but  I  think  Gustave  a  very 
dangerous  man ;  so  intellectual,  so  refined,  such  a  perfect 
gentleman!" 

"There  are  such  in  our  country,"  said  Helen. 

"Not  many  anywhere,"  replied  the  old  lady:  "I  have 
known  very  few.  Now,  will  you  answer  me  one  question, 
perhaps  an  indiscreet  one  ?  Do  you  think  Sir  Archibald 
Courtnay  will  marry  in  this  country  ?" 

"I  cannot  tell;  but,"  added  Helen,  smiling  at  the  un- 
disgui&d  anxiety  of  her  friend,  "  one  thing  is  very  certain 
— he  will  never  marry  your  Heartsease." 

"That  is  all  I  want  to  know  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Murray. 
"Now  I  leave  you  to  your  meditations — which,  I  know,  must 
"be  pleasanter  than  the  chatting  of  an  old  woman — until  we 
reach  Staten  Island." 

Helen  attempted  to  remonstrate,  but  in  vain ;  and  when 
the  carriage  stopped  at  the  gate  -»f  the  family  residence, 
our  heroine  was  absorbed  in  the  construction  of  one  of  those 
brilliant  edifices  of  fancy  which  youth  can  erect  at  the 
shortest  notice,  and  a  single  breath  of  materialism  will 
demolish  in  an  instant. 

The  weather  was  very  fine.  One  of  our  glittering  spring 
\iays  had  greeted  the  fete-champetre  to  which  all  looked 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW  YORK   SOCIETY.  209 

forward  with  so  much  pleasure.  The  budding  beauties  of 
nature  seemed  arrayed  in  their  brightest  colours  to  wel- 
come their  fair  rivals — many  quite  as  frail,  alas  ! 

So  thought  the  young  countess,  as  she  walked  around 
the  old  place  with  her  friends,  bidding  a  last  farewell  to 
the  haunts  of  her  childhood,  and  now  and  then  turning  to 
Rjbert,  on  whose  arm  she  was  leaning,  to  point  out  some 
favourite  spot — some  silent  witness  of  their  former  sports. 

"  How  beautiful  the  earth  is !"  whispered  the  young 
widow;  "but  far  more  perfect  must  paradise  be  !" 

"Speak  not  of  heaven,  Laura,"  answered  the  young 
man,  with  a  slight  irritation  of  manner  ;  "  one  would  fancy 
your  thoughts  were  ever  beyond  that  cloudless  sky  which 
hangs  so  heavily  upon  me  !" 

"  Robert,  you  are  unjust,  ungrateful,  and  sometimes 
cruel !"  she  added. 

"  Can  I  help  being  so,  when  my  life  has  been  so  sad,  so 
miserable,  so  deathlike  ?  For  without  affection,  what  is  it 
but  a  bitter  journey  of  toil  ?"  he  said. 

"  Our  own  errors  and  wickedness  may  make  it  so,  but 
Providence  has  pointed  out  a  far  different  object  to  those 
who  seek  its  holy  inspirations,"  continued  the  young 
countess. 

"That  is  all  very  fine;  and  when  you  tell  me  these 
things,  Laura,  I  cannot  help  believing  them.  But  can  you 
not  love  me  as  I  love  you,  cousin  ?"  whispered  the  passion- 
ate young  man,  as  he  lingered  behind  the  merry  girls. 

"  I  love  you  with  all  the  devotion  of  a  sister,  Robert, 
more  than  that  I  cannot  give.  Oh  !  here  are  Mrs.  Murray 
and  Helen,"  she  added,  leaving  her  cousin  to  meet  the  two 
ladies. 

"  All  a  farce  !"  muttered  the  young  man,  as  he  Burned 
away,  and  went  in  pursuit  of  Alice  and  Anna. 


210  HELEN  LEESON: 

"What  a  lovely  spot  this  is !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Murray; 
"  I  don't  wonder  you  are  all  so  much  attached  to  it." 

Allbreeze  was  in  fact  one  of  the  finest  places  on  the 
island.  It  commanded  an  extensive  view  of  the  ocean,  and 
from  the  back  part  of  the  house  could  be  distinguished 
distant  vistas  of  woods  and  valleys,  unfolding  boundless 
beauties  of  landscape. 

The  family  mansion  had  been  built  some  twenty-five 
years ;  fortunately,  before  all  the  distorted  architectural  fan- 
cies, which  have  rendered  so  many  homes  comfortless,  had 
become  fashionable.  It  was  a  square  building,  surrounded 
on  all  sides  by  a  spacious  piazza.  Its  interior  distribution 
had  been  calculated  for  the  comfort  of  all,  Mrs.  Leeson 
and  Aunt  Seraph  having  suggested  the  plan  ;  and  in  their 
charitable  sensitiveness,  they  had  considered  not  only  the 
gratification  of  every  fastidious  fancy,  but  also  the  actual 
wants  of  the  most  unpretending  members  of  the  family. 
Thus,  even  the  servants  had  been  provided  with  spacious 
and  salubrious  rooms — a  luxury  which,  we  are  sorry  to  say, 
is  not  always  afforded  them  in  the  residences  of  the  wealthy. 
How  often  do  we  sacrifice  to  the  mere  symmetry  of  a 
glance  the  essential  comforts  of  our  fellow-beings ! 

It  was  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  all  should  speak 
of  the  old  place  with  such  rapturous  eulogium ;  neither  did 
Mrs.  Murray  deem  that  praise  exaggerated  when  she  took 
a  seat  on  the  piazza  with  Helen  and  Laura,  and  gazed  at 
the  living  panorama  which  unfurled  its  inimitable  beauties 
before  her.  At  that  moment  Robert  came  in  with  the  two 
young  girls,  loaded  with  flowers,  which  were  soon  strewed 
about  them,  previous  to  being  tied  into  bouquets.  Aunt 
Seraph  and  Boget  were  superintending  the  lunch,  which  all 
would  be  sure  to  appreciate. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  Miss  Marsy,  how  much  I  have  en- 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  211 

joyed  this  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Murray,  as  they  walked 
through  the  grounds,  after  partaking  of  a  delicious  collation. 
"  Now,  if  we  could  return  to  New  York  without  being 
obliged  to  be  present  at  Mrs.  Seyton's  fete,  it  would  be 
truly  satisfactory." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  be  amply  repaid  for  the  ex- 
ertion," replied  Aunt  Seraph ;  "  Mrs.  Seyton's  place  is 
remarkably  beautiful — much  finer  than  ours." 

"  But  not  to  be  compared  to  it  in  many  respects.  Here 
you  have  comfort  and  elegance,  and  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  both  can  be  found  at  Highmount.  But,  to  change 
the  subject,  which  is  not  particularly  interesting — do  tell 
me  how  long  you  intend  remaining  in  Europe  ?" 

"  It  will  depend  entirely  on  my  Laura's  health.  If  she 
is  better,  we  may  spend  the  winter  in  Italy.  The  dear 
child  has  a  great  wish  to  visit  Naples.  Count  Marini's 
family — or  rather  an  old  aunt  and  uncle  of  his,  the  Marquis 
and  Marchioness  di  Caristi — are  still  living,  and  have  ex- 
pressed as  trong  desire  to  see  little  Arthur.  My  niece 
feels  in  duty  bound  to  gratify  them  ;  and  the  poor  child 
has  a  pious  longing  to  visit  the  spot  where  her  husband's 
remains  lie — at  the  Campo  Santo  Cemetery  near  Naples. 
It  was  a  terrible  trial  for  her  to  part  with  those  precious 
relics ;  but,  when  the  late  countess  died,  she  made  her  son 
promise  that,  whatever  his  fate  might  be.  his  remains  should 
be  sent  to  Naples ;  and  to  this  request  his  wife  adhered 
with  scrupulous  delicacy." 

"All  this  is  very  sad,"  said  Mrs.  Murray.  '* Yours  has 
been  like  mine — a  life  of  bitter  trials.  But  is  it  not  better 
that  it  should  be  so  ?"  she  added,  pressing  Miss  Marsy's 
hand. 

"  Perhaps  it  is.  We  can  reason  thus  when  all  is  over — 
when  the  grave  has  clasped  the  loved  ones ;  but  when,  step 


212  HELEN  LEESON: 

by  step,  we  see  them  glide  from  us,  until  their  very  life 
becomes  a  dim  shadow,  oh  !  then  the  agony  is  unbearable  !" 
Baid  Aun-t  Seraph,  with  a  sigh. 

"  It  is,  indeed.  But  strength  is  granted  in  those  hours 
of  mental  torture  to  the  patient  sufferer,"  replied  Mrs. 
Murray.  "  God  will,  I  trust,  restore  your  darling's  health  : 
this  trip  may  be  of  the  greatest  benefit.  Two  o'clock 
already  !"  she  continued,  looking  at  her  watch  ;  "  I  suppose 
Helen  must  be  quite  ready  by  this  time.  I  am  really  sorry 
to  leave  you." 

In  order  to  enjoy  her  morning,  Helen  had  gone  down  to 
the  island  in  a  simple  dress,  and  Sophie  had  been  des- 
patched with  her  toilet,  at  which  she  was  engaged  while 
the  two  friends  were  taking  their  sad  walk. 

A  white  muslin  dress,  perfectly  fresh-trimmed  with  seve- 
ral flounces,  and  a  head-dress  of  natural  flowers  tastefully 
arranged  by  the  little  maid,  had  been  selected  by  the 
young  girl's  instinctive  sense  of  the  beautiful ;  and  nothing 
could  be  more  genteel  and  appropriate. 

So  thought  Mrs.  Murray  and  Aunt  Seraph,  as  they  met 
her  in  the  hall. 

"Now  wrap  up  well,  dear  child,"  said  the  former  ;  "  we 
must  go.  Farewell,  friends  !  farewell,  all !  Now  that  I 
have  tasted  the  sweets  of  your  society,  I  shall  be  still  more 
reluctant  to  part  with  you.  Mr.  Leeson,  I  have  a  seat  to 
offer  you  in  my  carriage."  And  the  kind  old  lady  drove 
off,  having  produced  upon  all  that  impression  of  regard 
and  admiration  which  is  the  first  dawn  of  friendship. 

When  our  party  reached  Highmount,  most  of  the  guests 
had  arrived  there — many  in  silks  and  satins,  loaded  down 
with  elegant  head-dresses  and  elaborate  trimmings.  Few 
had  been  wise  enough  to  meet  the  dangerous  rivalry  of 
nature's  charms  in  the  modest  attire  which,  of  all  others,^ 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  213 

displays  real  beauty.  Even  their  late  trial  of  the  flowers 
personified  had  not  taught  them  the  lesson  of  simple  and 
refined  taste. 

Helen  was  welcomed,  as  usual,  by  a  crowd  of  admirers, 
who  were  faithful  in  their  devotion  to  the  belle  of  the 
season.  Her  title  had  remained  unimpaired  during  the 
whole  winter ;  and  now  that  the  lovely  sovereign  of  so  fra- 
gile a  realm  was  about  to  abdicate,  all  were  anxious  to 
honour  by  due  homage  her  last  appearance  among  her 
devoted  subjects. 

"  Have  you  heard  of  the  surprise  we  are  to  have  to-day, 
Miss  Helen  ?"  asked  Marvell,  as,  with  his  usual  luck,  he 
managed  to  carry  off  the  young  girl  in  the  first  waltz. 

"  No ;  but  before  we  dance  any  more,  let  me  take  a 
glimpse  of  this  splendid  residence.  Will  you  be  my  guide, 
Mr.  Marvell?" 

"With  infinite  satisfaction."  And  the  beau  led  his 
partner  through  the  various  apartments,  all  decorated  with 
flowers,  and  furnished  with  as  much  magnificence  as  the  ex- 
travagant mansion  occupied  by  the  hostess  in  New  York. 
There,  upon  that  elevated  spot,  where  nature  in  its  majes- 
tic grandeur  seemed  to  defy  the  waves  of  the  ocean  and 
the  blasts  of  the  tempest,  such  a  display  of  luxury 
seemed  little  in  keeping.  It  was  too  effeminate  for  the 
violent  contact  of  the  elements — too  gaudy  for  the  noble 
and  gigantic  scenery  around  it. 

In  short,  had  Mrs.  Seyton  been  a  poet,  she  could  not 
have  breathed  amid  the  satins  and  gildings  of  Highmount. 

"  And  what  is  this  secret  which  seems  to  interest  you  so 
much?"  asked  Helen. 

"  Nothing  that  you  will  like,"  was  the  answer ;  "  but 

pleasure  enough  to  satisfy  twelve  of   our  ladies  and  aa 

%many  of  our  boys: — I  can't  call  Sydney  Morris,  Dorsay, 


214  HELEN  LEESON: 

Dallas,  Corry,  and  so  many  others,  men.  Well,  we  are  to 
have  a  quadrille  danced  by  these  individuals,  disguised  as 
peasants  A  very  novel  idea,  as  you  perceive,  and  which 
originated  with  the  hostess." 

As  Marvell  was  finishing  his  phrase,  Mr.  Dobbins,  with 
a  look  of  deep  concern,  came  up  to  him. 

"  Have  you  seen  my  wife,  Mr.  Marvell  ?  Ah !  Miss 
Leeson,  good-morning.  Did  you  meet  Olivia  ?  I  cannot 
find  her." 

"  Mrs.  Dobbins  is  in  the  dressing-room,  putting  on  her 
costume." 

"  Her  what  ?"  asked  the  astonished  husband. 

"  Don't  you  know,"  continued  the  unmerciful  Harry, 
"that  Mrs.  Dobbins  is  to  be  one  of  the  dancers  in  the 
quadrille  which  Mrs.  Seyton  has  prepared  for  this  fete- 
champetre  ?" 

"  Not  a  word  of  it,  my  dear  fellow.  She  never  tells  me 
any  thing."  And  the  disconsolate  man  walked  off,  com- 
forting himself,  as  he  passed  by  a  mirror,  with  a  glimpse 
at  his  diamond  breastpin,  which  had  cost  a  mint  of  money. 

"Just  as  I  prophesied,"  said  Mac  Tavish,  who  had 
overheard  poor  Dobbins'  complaints  against  his  better 
half. 

A  message  from  Mrs.  Seyton  to  Marvell,  requiring  his 
presence  immediately,  left  Mac  Tavish  the  inestimable  pri- 
vilege of  offering  his  arm  to  Helen. 

Since  the  eventful  disclosure  he  had  made  at  the  flower 
ball,  Eric  had  not  spoken  to  her  ;  and,  fearing  he  had  given 
offence,  he  offered  her  his  protection  in  a  timid,  diffident 
manner,  very  unusual  to  him. 

"  I  am  most  happy,  Miss  Leeson,  to  have  an  opportunity 
of  apologizing  for  my  presumptuous  speech  to  you,  at  Mrs. 
Murray's,"  he  said.  "  Have  you  forgiven  me  ?" 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         215 

"Certainly,"  she  answered,  smiling;  "it  was  only  a 
joke." 

"  It  was  not  a  joke,  though  ;  one  of  these  days  you  will 
acknowledge  it  yourself.  But  let  me,  while  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  your  society,  mention  a  subject  which,  I  trust, 
will  meet  with  your  approbation,  and  which  is  of  some  in- 
terest to  me.  You  are  going  to  travel  through  Scotland, 
are  you  not?" 

"I  hope  so." 

"  My  mother  and  sister  live  in  Edinburgh.  It  would,  1 
know,  afford  them  infinite  satisfaction  to  become  acquainted 
with  some  of  my  American  friends  to  whom  I  am  so  much 
indebted :  would  you  allow  me  to  give  you  a  letter  for 
them  ?  In  a  foreign  country  it  is  sometimes  useful  to 
have  acquaintances,  and  I  think  you  will  like  Rose  ;  she  is 
almost  as  sweet  as  her  namesake,  the  child  of  Scott's 
fancy." 

"I  have  no  doubt,"  replied  Helen,  "it  would  give  me 
great  pleasure  to  know  your  mother  and  sister.  Pray,  do 
not  forget  that  letter.  Mr.  Marvell,"  she  added,  as  Harry 
came  toward  them,  almost  convulsed  with  laughter,  "do 
let  us  share  your  merriment." 

"  The  very  best,  choicest  fun  I  have  had  for  a  long 
time !"  he  said.  "  But  let  me  show  you  this  fine  prospect, 
Miss  Leeson,"  added  Marvell,  as  he  led  Mac  Tavish  and 
his  companion  some  distance  from  the  dancing  couples. 
"You  cannot  imagine  any  thing  so  farcical,"  he  continued. 
"  Since  Lord  Devere's  arrival  here,  every  one  has  been 
under  the  impression  that  he  was  a  widower;  in  fact,  I 
never  heard  him  mention  his  wife,  except  as  *  the  late  Lady 
Devere ;'  consequently,  a  friend  of  ours,  who  is  fond  of 
euphonious  titles,  has  been  most  anxious  to  appropriate 

that  one ;  and  to  her  ardent  desire  we  are  partially  indebted 

19 


216  HELEN  LEESON: 

for  this  matinee.  Well,  a  few  days  ago,  I  received  a  letter 
from  Frank  Lawrence,  who  is  travelling  in  England,  in 
which  he  mentions  having  danced  with  an  exquisite  beauty, 
about  twenty-five,  a  Lady  Devere,  separated  from  her  hus- 
band ;  a  great  flirt,  it  appears,  who  must  have  led  the  poor 
old  gentleman  a  sorry  life.  Just  now,  Mrs.  Seyton  sent 
for  me,  in  her  boudoir,  to  make  some  little  arrangements 
for  the  quadrille,  and,  perchance,  I  mentioned  Lawrence's 
piece  of  intelligence.  Words  cannot  express  the  look  of 
consternation  which  appeared  on  the  lady's  countenance — 
evidently  bitter  disappointment.  Of  course,  I  saw  nothing, 
and  made  my  exit ;  but  is  it  not  a  capital  story  ?" 

"  How  uncharitable  in  you  to  repeat  it,  Mr.  Marvell !" 
said  Helen,  with  a  slight  shade  of  reproach. 

"Does  Mrs.  Seyton  spare  any  one,  Miss  Helen  ?" 

"  That  is  a  poor,  unchristianlike  argument,  not  worthy 
of  your  heart  and  good  sense." 

"If  you  were  always  about,  dear  lady,"  answered  the 
young  man,  smiling,  "we  would  be  better,  no  doubt." 

"Make  room  for  the  quadrille !"  was  the  general  excla- 
mation, as  the  folding-doors  opened  to  admit  the  dancers 
in  their  fanciful  costumes. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight,  and  produced  a  great  sensation 
among  the  votaries  of  fashion,  as  few  only  had  been  ini- 
tiated. Cora  Dalton,  who  was  a  very  graceful  dancer, 
bore  the  palm.  Julia  Elvington,  the  Warrens,  Mrs.  Dob- 
bins, (who  eyed  her  astonished  spouse  with  all  possible 
trust  in  her  own  privileges  as  an  independent  person,)  and 
even  Augusta  Waring — whom  Mrs.  Seyton  had  consented 
to  invite  in  consideration  of  her  undisputed  claim  to  exqui- 
site dancing — appeared  to  advantage.  The  gentlemen 
were  gawky  and  awkward,  of  course;  but,  being  indispen- 
sable shades  to  the  tableau,  were  tolerated  by  the  admiring 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK   SOCIETY.  217 

spectators ;  their  youth  was  a  sufficient  excuse  for  their 
somewhat  ridiculous  appearance.  Mrs.  Seyton  was  pro- 
digal of  her  exclamations  of  admiration  :  she  seemed  in 
high  spirits ;  but  to  those  who,  like  Marvell,  knew  the  in- 
ward workings  of  the  little  widow's  web  of  ambition,  there 
was  a  nervous  excitement  about  her  manner  which  bespoke 
sad  disappointment. 

Let  us  not  tarry  longer  on  the  description  of  the  many 
attractions  offered  by  the  queen  of  Highmount  to  her  nu- 
merous guests.  At  five  o'clock  a  splendid  collation  was 
served,  and  at  seven  the  halls  of  the  princely  residence 
still  rung  with  the  sounds  of  festive  mirth. 

Cora  Dalton,  elated  by  her  success,  and  confident  of 
having  partially  captivated  the  young  Englishman,  insisted 
upon  his  accepting  a  seat  in  her  uncle's  carriage,  while 
Mrs.  Grantly,  who  had  appeared  at  the  f6te  in  her  usual 
character  as  a  prominent  leader  of  ton,  offered  Lord  Devere 
the  same  accommodation  in  her  own  elegant  equipage. 

Well  might  it  have  been  said  of  these  ladies  of  fashion, 
what  a  jester  once  remarked — "  An  infusion  of  nobility  and 
rank  will  make  buwwity  digest  many  a  bitter  pill." 


218  HELEN    LEEfcON: 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  time  for  Helen's  departure  was  drawing  near  ;  and 
as  the  hour  of  separation  from  the  dear  ones  approached, 
the  young  girl  felt  nervous,  and  almost  reluctant  to  accept 
Aunt  Seraph's  kind  offer.  Even  the  hope  of  meeting  Wal- 
ter grew  more  dim,  and  the  two  last  days  were  painful 
indeed.  Robert  was  the  only  one  of  the  party  perfectly 
satisfied  and  unconcerned.  He  did  feel  some  slight  uneasi- 
ness about  his  father,  and  a  trifling  scruple  in  receiving  so 
expensive  a  favour  as  a  trip  of  six  months  to  Europe  from 
his  aunt.  But,  with  a  better  nature,  Robert  possessed  Mrs. 
Grantly's  selfishness.  Might  we  not  extend  the  remark  to 
his  sex  in  general  ?  adding,  however,  in  immediate  exte- 
nuation, that  fate  and  education  are  responsible  for  their 
want  of  that  delicate,  self-sacrificing  feature  which  actuates 
every  fibre  in  a  woman's  heart.  Perhaps  it  is  best  that  it 
should  be  so.  In  this  particular  case  it  was  a  fortunate 
thing,  as  the  party  greatly  needed  Robert's  good  spirits 
and  protecting  energy. 

"  Have  you  every  thing  ready,  my  child  ?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Leeson  on  the  morning  preceding  her  daughter's  departure. 
"  Can  I  do  any  thing  for  you?"  x 

"Nothing,  mother,"  replied  the  young  girl,  as  she  sat 
down  near  the  dear  parent  whose  influence  over  her  whole 
existence  had  been  one  smile  of  love. 

"  You  must  write  very  often,  remember — by  every 
steamer,"  continued  Mrs.  Leeson.  "  How  we  shall  miss 
you,  my  child !  If  it  were  not  for  your  aunt  and  our  poor 


A    PEEP    AT   NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  219 

Laura,  I  never  would  have  consented  to  your  leaving  us — 
never!" 

"  I  should  not  have  gone  under  any  other  circumstances," 
said  Helen. 

"Have  you  sent  for  your  dressing-case,  Miss  Elly?" 
asked  Mrs.  Boget,  whose  affectionate  zeal  had  taken  a 
fresh  start  on  this  occasion.  "  Here  is  your  travelling 
cloak,  and  Sophie  is  finishing  the  hood." 

"  Every  thing  seems  to  be  prepared  except  myself,  dear 
Boget.  I  am  so  unwilling  to  leave  you  all,  and  this  precious 
home,"  added  the  young  girl,  as  she  glanced  at  the  familiar 
objects  around  her ;  "  arid  I  shall  not  hear  this  tinkler  any 
more,"  she  added,  as  she  rose  to  answer  Alice  Irving's  call. 

"  Am  I  wanted,  neighbour  ?"  asked  the  little  Quakeress. 

"  Yes,  for  the  whole  day.  I  must  see  as  much  of  you  as 
I  can  ;  your  bright  spirits  will  cheer  me." 

"  Very  well,  I  am  coming,"  was  the  answer ;  and  a  few 
minutes  after,  the  sweet  girl  was  sitting  with  her  friend, 
making  a  thousand  agreeable  reflections  upon  the  delightful 
time  the  travellers  would  have.  In  short,  she  painted  such 
a  glowing  picture  of  the  future  to  Helen  and  Anna,  that 
both  sisters  became  quite  cheerful.  So  true  it  is  that  joy 
and  grief  are  contagious.  Would  that  sin  and  bad  example 
•were  not ! 

The  day  passed  swiftly.  After  dinner,  before  several 
expected  friends  came  in,  Helen  went  up  to  see  her 
father,  who  seemed  more  fatigued  and  exhausted  than 
usual. 

The  solitary  man  sat  in  an  arm-chair  in  the  library, 
apparently  absorbed  in  thought.  Helen  entered  gently, 
and  stood  by  him,  before  he  was  aware  of  her  presence. 

"  Ah  !  is  that  you,  darling  ?"  he  said. 

"  Yes ;  I  thought  you  might  be  alone,  and  would  enjoy 

19* 


220  HELEN  LEESON: 

a  quiet  little  chat  with  your  daughter,  who  is  going  to 
leave  you  so  soon." 

"  Too  soon,  my  dear  child  !"  said  Mr.  Leeson,  as  he 
pressed  the  hand  he  held  in  his  to  his  lips.  "  Too  soon ! 
Who  knows  whether  I  shall  ever  gaze  upon  your  loved 
countenance  again?" 

"  You  will,  of  course,"  answered  the  young  girl,  much 
affected  by  the  deep  emotion  which  his  voice  betrayed. 

"  We  cannot  be  certain  of  that,"  he  continued  ;  "  and 
perhaps  the  day  will  come  when  the  memory  of  your 
father  will  be  a  bitter  theme  to  you,  Helen  !" 

"Never!"  she  exclaimed;  "never,  father!  Happen 
what  may,  I  shall  always  think  of  you  with  love  and  re- 
spect !" 

"  God  grant  it  may  be  so  !"  he  muttered.  "  Still,  this 
awful  result  would  be  but  the  just  retribution  for  my  many 
sins.  Helen,"  he  added,  apparently  much  agitated,  "to 
you  I  would  confide  a  terrific  secret  which  has  racked  this 
torn  bosom  for  many  a  long  year,  and  will  embitter  my 
existence  to  my  last  hour !  I  cannot  tell  you  all ;  but  I 
have  wronged,  in  the  most  cruel,  disgraceful  manner,  one 
to  whom  I  owed  a  debt  of  gratitude  !  Don't  start,  child  ! 
Others  have  done  it,  and  will  do  it  yet !  While  I  was 
happy  and  prosperous,  I  felt  not  the  sting  of  conscience  ; 
its  cry  was  hushed  by  the  din  of  success  and  pride !  But 
since  trouble  arid  sickness  have  crushed  my  spirit,  its  in- 
cessant appeal  has  almost  maddened  me.  Would  that  I 
could  find  a  spot  where  the  horrid  vision  could  not  reach 
me!" 

"  Father,  have  you  never  sought  comfort  in  prayer  ? 
God  is  .merciful  to  the  repentant  sinner !"  said  the  trem- 
bling girl. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it ;  but  I  cannot  pray.     The  lips  which 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         221 

have  not  been  schooled  to  that  holy  communion  refuse  to 
convey  the  expression  of  the  aching  soul  !" 

"Oh,  think  not  thus  !"  she  replied.  "  The  prayer  which 
the  heart  conceives  needs  no  utterance.  There  will  be 
pardon  and  comfort  granted  to  you  most  certainly,  if  you 
but  claim  them  from  the  merciful  Judge  !" 

"Helen,"  continued  the  wretched  father,  "you  little 
know  the  bleeding  effort  it  has  cost  me  to  avow  my  sin  to 
you,  my  child,  in  whose  eyes  I  now  stand  as  a  guilty  man  ! 
but  my  errors  needed  an  expiation,  and  it  may  one  day 
lie  in  your  power  to  atone,  in  a  measure,  for  the  injury  I 
have  done  that  man." 

"What  do  you  mean,  father?" 

"  Oh,  merely,  should  you  ever  meet  a  man  by  the  name  of 
Grey — Walter  Grey— tell  him  I  sincerely  repented,  and 
trust  he  has  forgiven  me !  But,"  added  Mr.  Leeson,  as  he 
convulsively  grasped  his  daughter's  arm,  "let  no  other 
human  ear  gather  those  words  from  your  lips.  Swear  that 
you  will  do  so  !" 

"I  will,"  said  the  young  girl,  as  the  varied  emotions  of 
her  heart  brought  sweet  and  bitter  tears  to  her  eyes. 

"  Now  go  down  stairs,"  added  Mr.  Leeson ;  "  and  re- 
member, that  if  I  should  be  taken  from  you,  your  mother's 
small  fortune  has  been  secured.  You  will  not  live  as  we 
do  now,  but  you  will  not  want.  Go,  darling,  go ;"  and  with 
mingled  affection  and  irritation,  he  gently  motioned  his 
daughter  from  him. 

Helen  left  the  library,  and  went  up  to  her  room,  to  re- 
cover a  little  from  the  violence  of  her  agitation  uefore 
meeting  her  friends  in  the  drawing-room.  Sad  as  had 
been  the  impression  produced  upon  her  pure,  upright 
mind  by  the  awful  communication  she  had  received,  she 
could  not  refrain  from  a  delightful  sensation  of  joy  at  the 


222  HELEN  LEESON: 

thought  of  meeting  her  husband  freed  from  the  painful  en- 
mity which  her  father  had  entertained  against  the  young 
man. 

She  was  in  duty  bound  to  love  him ;  and,  by  devoting 
herself  to  his  happiness,  she  would  but  grant  him  the  sacred 
compensation  which  was  his  due.  So  pure,  so  true  was 
her  affection  ;  and  so  strange,  will  many  think,  that  she 
should  feel  thus  toward  one  almost  a  stranger  to  her ! 
There  is  a  mysterious  link  between  the  spirits  of  this  world 
•which  needs  not  presence  to  rivet  two  hearts ! 

Helen  found  the  parlour  filled  with  company,  all  kind 
and  affectionate  in  their  farewells.  Many  little  tokens  of 
friendship  had  been  sent  in  the  morning,  for  which  sincere 
thanks  were  returned,  and  promises  of  regular  corre- 
spondence given.  But  such  meetings  are  always  sad,  not- 
withstanding the  attempts  of  some  indifferent  ones  to  make 
them  otherwise,  and  at  an  early  hour  most  of  the  visitors 
retired. 

"Emma,  dear,"  said  Helen,  as  she  kissed  her  friend,  "I 
cannot  bear  to  part  with  you." 

"  Don't  speak  of  it,"  replied  the  sweet  girl,  wiping  away 
her  tears.  "  I  have  been  miserable  all  day ;  I  wish  you 
•were  gone  now,  since  it  must  be." 

"Let  me  take  you  home,  Miss  Emma,"  said  Herman 
Smith. 

"Yes,  I  trust  her  and  all  to  you,  Herman,"  said  Helen. 
"  If  this  good  friend  had  not  been  here,"  she  added,  press- 
ing the  young  man's  hand,  "I  never  should  have  gone  to 
Europe." 

"  Be  perfectly  easy,  dear  lady,"  replied  Herman ;  "  I 
shall,  I  hope,  prove  worthy  of  your  trust." 

After  bidding  all  farewell,  Helen  retired  to  her  room ; 
but  before  undressing  she  read  a  few  chapters  in  the  Bible. 


A   PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.  223 

While  she  was  thus  occupied,  Boget  came  in  with  a  note, 
which  she  gave  her  young  mistress ;  and,  having  inquired 
whether  she  had  every  thing  ready,  the  worthy  woman 
retired. 

•  Helen  opened  the  note:  it  was  from  Laura,  and  con- 
tained a  small  strip  of  newspaper.     It  ran  thus : 
'•DEAREST: 

"  As  you  might  possibly  see  this  piece  of  intelligence 
elsewhere,  and  express  some  disagreeable  surprise,  I  here 
enclose  it ;  hoping,  now,  that  nothing  will  mar  the  pleasure 
which  I  know  your  trip  to  Europe  will  afford  you. 

"  Yours,  LAURA." 

With  an  indescribable  feeling  of  terror  and  apprehen- 
sion, Helen  opened  the  little  paper,  and  read  these  few 
words : 

"  Died,  at  Rome,  of  an  accident,  Walter  Grey,  of  this 
city." 

"  Oh,  Lord !"  exclaimed  the  agonized  girl ;  "  dead  !  and 
without  one  word  of  pardon  for  my  cruelty !"  Then, 
throwing  herself  on  her  knees,  with  clasped  hands  she 
added :  "Alas  !  I  have  deserved  this  blow.  Walter  !  Wal- 
ter !  would  that  I  could  die  too  !  life  is  so  full  of  bitterness !" 


224  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

PAINFUL,  indeed,  were  Helen's  thoughts  when,  on  the 
following  morning,  she  awoke  to  the  consciousness  of  the 
sad  change  which  that  dreadful  intelligence  had  wrought  in 
her  existence.  The  dream  which  had  spread  its  brilliant 
rays  over  her  whole  being  had  vanished,  and  nothing  re- 
mained but  sorrow  and  darkness ;  and  the  conviction  that 
the  injury  she  had  done  Walter  had  been  unatoned  for, 
filled  the  young  girl's  mind  with  regret  more  bitter,  per- 
haps, than  the  deprivation  of  that  link  of  love  and  hope 
which  had  entwined  itself  around  her  heart. 

"  Would  that  I  could  give  up  this  trip,  and  remain  at 
home !  What  object  have  I  now  to  compensate  for  the 
sacrifice?"  muttered  the  wretched  girl,  as  she  slowly  pro- 
ceeded with  her  toilet.  "  Selfish  !  oh  !  thrice  selfish  !" 
she  added  ;  "  do  I  not  owe  myself  to  poor  Laura,  my  more 
than  sister  ?  And  if  I  fulfil  my  duty  here  below,  will  not 
God  grant  me  that  mercy  which  he  permitted  not  that  I 
should  receive  from  the  lips  of  the  loved  one  ?" 

Comforted  by  this  soothing  thought  of  charity  and  devo 
tion,  Helen  continued  her  preparations. 

All  or  most  of  our  readers  have  witnessed,  or  perhaps 
taken  an  active  interest  in,  the  painful  scenes  which  attend 
a  parting  of  relatives  and  friends.  The  last  words  and  em- 
brace, cherished  so  fondly  in  Memory's  stores ;  the  thou- 
sand unutterable  blessings  which  a  sympathetic  tear  con- 
veys to  the  traveller;  and,  after  the  parting  has  taken 
place,  the  lingering  look  of  love  which  follows  the  retreat- 


A   PEEP    AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  225 

ing  carriage,  and  the  burst  of  uncontrollable  despair  which 
for  a  moment  crushes  all  hope. 

Thus  it  was  in  Helen's  family.     Robert  and  Herman  ac- 
companied the  weeping  girl,  who  turned  again  and  again 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  home  which  held  her  treasures 
Not  one  word  was  uttered  until  they  reached  the  steamer. 

Miss  Marsy  and  Laura,  having  gone  down  at  an  earlier 
h  )ur  to  make  some  arrangements,  received  Helen  as  their 
guest,  and  resorted  to  various  affectionate  ruses  to  divert 
her,  but  in  vain.  There  was  a  deathlike  feeling  of  misery 
in  that  torn  heart,  which  could  not  bring  forth  a  smile. 

Many  persons  had  gone  down  to  the  steamer  to  see  the 
belle  off — Mrs.  Murray,  Emma,  Alice,  Marvell,  Mac 
Tavish ;  even  Mrs.  Grantly  had  condescended  thus  far  to 
honour  Helen,  more  for  her  acknowledged  title  as  queen 
of  fashion  than  as  her  niece.  But  to  the  expressions  of 
interest  and  regret  which  on  all  sides  met  her  ear,  our 
heroine  could  make  but  a  sad,  unmeaning  return.  Even 
to  Mrs.  Murray  she  dared  say  nothing.  The  old  lady  was 
distressed,  evidently ;  but  she  did  not  mention  the  subject 
nearest  Helen's  heart. 

At  last  the  signal  was  given.  All  friends  had  gone,  and 
the  noble  steamer,  working  her  ponderous  machinery, 
wended  her  way  through  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay, 
shooting  swiftly  beyond  the  numberless  vessels  which  sur- 
rounded her. 

There  is  in  sea-voyages,  as  in  most  things  of  this  world, 
a  strong  similitude,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  strange  dis- 
parity. This  greatly  depends  upon  the  society  one  hap- 
pens to  meet.  In  days  of  yore,  when  one  started  with  the 
certainty  of  spending  several  weeks  at  sea,  efforts  were 
made,  in  self-defence,  to  beguile  the  long  hours,  and  steal 
from  time  its  weariness;  but  now  that  ten  days  link  the 


226  HELEN    LEESON. 

two  continents,  Selfishness  sets  sail  with  the  crowd  of  hu- 
man beings ;  she  is  their  constant  companion,  and  landa 
them  all  in  her  train  on  the  shores-  of  noble  England 
There  are  some  exceptions  to  this  rule,  however,  as  there 
aie  to  all  others  ;  and  a  close  contact  of  ten  days  will  some- 
times destroy  many  prejudices  and  create  some  friendships. 

"  How  are  you,  dear  child  ?"  asked  Laura,  as  she  en- 
tered her  cousin's  state-room  on  the  morning  after  their 
departure.  "  I  hear  you  have  been  very  ill." 

"  Oh,  deathly!"  replied  the  young  girl,  faintly.  "  What 
an  awful  place  this  is  !  But  you  do  not  seem  to  mind  it." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  I  am  perfectly  well,  and  will  take 
care  of  you.  Robert  and  I  have  been  promenading  since 
six  o'clock.  I  got  up  with  the  intention  of  seeing  the  sun 
rise,  but  the  old  gentleman  took  the  start  of  me,  and  stared 
me  in  the  face  as  soon  as  I  reached  the  deck." 

"  How  is  Aunt  ?"  inquired  Helen. 

"  Pretty  well ;  and  Arty  delighted.  Now  do  get  up, 
Elly.  Robert  will  carry  you  up-stairs,  if  necessary,  and 
you  will  be  well." 

"  That  can  never  be,  Laura,  never !" 

"  Oh,  we  will  manage  it,"  said  the  young  countess, 
emiling,  unconscious  of  Helen's  meaning. 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  have  been  talking  to,  and  who  I 
am  likely  to  fancy  prodigiously  ?"  continued  Laura. 

"No;  who?" 

**  Mr.  Dobbins.  I  suppose  you  had  forgotten  that  he  is 
our  fellow-passenger.  Olivia  is  perfectly  well,  and  flou- 
rishing off  with  Mr.  Delavan  from  the  South,  while  her  poor 
husband  looks  on  in  dismay.  He  is  really  a  nice  fellow, 
although  a  little  ridiculous.  That  silly  girl  will  thrust  her 
happiness  from  her  for  this  trifling  stigma,  I  dare  say. 
Now,  lazy  one,  pray  make  an  effort,  and  dress  yourself." 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         227 

"  I  cannot  get  up,  Laura,  indeed." 

"  You  must,  darling  ;  I  will  send  Nina  to  you  now,  and 
Robert  soon  after." 

Helen  had  to  submit,  and  soon  found  that  the  air 
brought,  in  fact,  the  only  relief  to  her  suffering. 

As  soon  as  our  heroine  made  her  appearance,  many  in- 
quiring acquaintances — nay,  strangers — crowded  around 
her,  and,  after  a  few  moments,  Jasper  Delavan  managed  to 
restore  Olivia  to  her  rightful  owner,  and  obtain,  through 
Robert,  whom  he  knew  slightly,  an  introduction  to  his 
sister. 

The  day  passed  away,  and  ten  succeeding  ones  brought 
very  little  variety  in  their  train ;  only,  the  slight  occur- 
rences of  the  first  twenty-four  hours  grew  into  a  more 
positive  form,  and  became  actualities.  That  is,  Jasper 
Delavan  was  desperately  in  love  with  Helen,  who  had  not 
even  granted  him  one  ray  of  hope.  Mrs.  Dobbins  was 
still  bent  on  captivating  .the  young  man's  admiration,  and 
Mr.  Dobbins  had  become  a  positive  favourite  with  the  ladies 
of  our  party.  Little  Arthur,  who,  with  infantine  instinct, 
immediately  discovered  the  kindness  and  good-nature  of 
Olivia's  husband,  soon  became  an  object  of  particular  in- 
terest to  the  dejected  man. 

"Don't  forget  friend  Dob,"  he  said,  as  they  parted  on 
the  wharf  at  Liverpool.  "  Kiss  me,  Arty.  Farewell, 
farewell !  I  wish  you  were  my  boy." 

u  Arty  loves  Dob,"  said  the  little  fellow,  as  he  threw 
both  arms  around  his  friend's  neck.  "  Good-by  !  Come 
soon ;"  wherewith  the  child  was  carried  off  by  Nina, 
and  the  whole  party  soon  settled  in  the  best  hotel.  Com- 
fortless as  it  was,  it  possessed  many  advantages  over 
the  steamer,  and  these  were  duly  appreciated  by  the 
travellers. 

20 


228  HELEN  LEESON: 

"Now,  my  children,'"  said  Miss  Marsy,  after  a  rest  of 
a  few  days  had  prepared  them  all  for  a  fresh  start,  "  we 
must  agree  upon  some  plan.  Do  we,  or  do  we  not,  go  to 
Scotland?  What  say  you,  Laura?" 

"  I  say  that  the  beautiful  scenery  of  that  romantic 
country  must  possess  charms  sufficiently  great  to  repay  one 
for  the  journey.  Don't  you  think  so,  Helen  ?" 

"I  follow  you,  dear  ones,"  said  the  young  girl.  "My 
only  wish,  connected  with  Scotland,  would  be  to  become 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Mac  Tavish's  family ;  you  see  it  is 
not  a  very  powerful  motive." 

"There  is  no  knowing  that,"  said  Miss  Marsy.  "Well, 
I  think  in  this  season  we  may  venture  that  far  north.  Ro- 
bert, pray  make  all  the  necessary  arrangements  for  our 
departure." 

It  would  be  presumptuous  on  our  part  to  attempt  a 
description  of  the  many  lovely  spots  visited  by  our  travel- 
lers, and  hallowed  by  the  beauties  of  Walter  Scott's  pen. 
As  Laura  had  thought,  they  were  fully  repaid  for  the  exer- 
tion. Their  trip  to  Scotland  furnished  them  with  most 
delightful  themes  of  conversation,  and  left  ineffaceable 
impressions  of  nature's  magnificence.  In  Mrs.  Mac  Tavish 
they  found  a  most  agreeable  acquaintance,  worthy  of  hav- 
ing superintended  the  mind  of  our  noble  friend  Eric ;  and 
JVIiss  Rose  was  indeed  a  lovely  lassie,  with  bright  blue  eyes, 
and  cheeks  so  rosy  that  her  namesake  would  have  blushed 
in  spite  at  the  competition.  She  was  a  well-educated  girl, 
with  refined  but  simple  tastes ;  less  elegant  in  her  manners 
than  the  more  worldly  of  her  sex,  but  possessing  that  innate 
grace  which  is  one  of  woman's  undeniable  prerogatives. 

During  the  three  weeks  our  ladies  spent  in  Edinburgh, 
they  saw  a  great  deal  of  Mrs.  Mac  Tavish  and  her  daughter, 
both  anxious  to  express  their  gratitude  for  the  many  favours 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        229 

Eric  had  received  in  America.  Rose  became  a  great 
favourite  with  Helen  and  Laura  ;  and  before  they  parted, 
solemn  vows  of  affection  and  promises  of  correspondence 
were  sealed  between  the  young  girls  with  a  fond  embrace. 

With  regret,  the  travellers  took  leave  of  the  mountainous 
beauties  of  Scotland,  and  for  some  time  they  were  loth  to 
acknowledge  the  more  artificial  charms  of  English  scenery. 
They  visited  several  large  cities,  and  at  last  readied  London 
about  the  middle  of  June. 

We  will  not  tarry  long  in  the  metropolis  of  Great 
Britain.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Miss  Marsy  and  her  flock, 
as  she  called  the  young  people,  saw  every  thing  that  could 
be  of  the  slightest  interest,  and  left  the  great  city,  im- 
pressed with  its  magnificence  and  grandeur,  but  witkout  a 
regret.  After  all,  it  is  an  unsatisfactory  life,  that  of  spend- 
ing ten  days  entirely  in  sight-seeing,  without  a  friendly 
break  to  remind  one  of  the  ties  of  affection.  Later,  when 
memory  has  classed  all  its  treasures,  we  derive  the  benefit 
of  that  toilsome  journey  in  search  of  the  wonders  of  art. 
Well  did  the  poet  feel  the  truth  of  this  when  he  said — • 
"  Memory  is  the  perfume  of  travels."  It  is  indeed  the 
mysterious  breath  which  wafts  the  impressions  of  the  past 
toward  us. 

"We  at  last  behold  la  belle  France!"  said  the  young 
countess,  as,  leaning  on  Robert's  arm,  she  watched  the 
evolutions  of  the  little  steamer  as  it  entered  Calais.  "  I 
have  a  symp^hy  for  this  fine  country,"  added  Laura — "  a 
species  of  gratitude  for  its  intervention  at  the  time  of  our 
great  national  struggle." 

"So  have  I,"  replied  Robert;  "but  I  don't  think  the 
feeling  is  general." 

" '  The  records  of  revenge  or  hatred  are  engraved  upon 
steel,  and  those  of  gratitude  are  traced  on  sand,'  "  continued 


230  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  young  countess ;  "  don't  you  remember  that  old  saying? 
It  is  not  complimentary  to  our  fallen  nature,  but  too  true, 
alas !  Come,  Helen,  cheer  up !  no  more  sickness  now ; 
here  we  are,  almost  on  terra  firma.  A  few  days  more  will 
take  us  to  Paris,  where  we  shall  enjoy  a  good  rest,  and  all 
the  resources  of  that  queen  of  wonders !" 

"Now,  Laura,"  said  Miss  Marsy,  "you  speak  of 
France  in  such  raptures ;  do  you  know  I  am  not  at  all 
prepared  to  like  it.  I  have  a  very  poor  opinion  of  its  in- 
habitants. I  must  say,  however,  that  I  am  ashamed  to 
acknowledge  it." 

"Do  be  ashamed  to  do  so,  dear  aunt,  and  wait  until  you 
can  judge  for  yourself.  Our  countrymen  are  apt  to  be  led 
away  by  the  exaggerated  use  of  those  dim  spectacles  called 
prejudice;  and  frequently  do  they  make  them  stumble  over 
beauties  which,  viewed  with  the  naked  eye,  would  have 
filled  them  with  delight." 

"  True,  I  always  said  you  were  wiser  than  your  old  aunty. 
But,  really,  I  cannot  think  highly  of  a  French  woman ;  it 
seems  impossible  that  she  should  be  every  thing  that  is  good 
and  proper." 

"Live  and  see,"  said  Laura,  as  they  landed,  and  once 
more  had  occasion  to  test  the  doubtful  comforts  of  a  hotel. 

Two  days  after,  our  party  arrived  in  Paris ;  and  scarcely 
had  twenty-four  hours  elapsed  before  Aunt  Seraph  ex- 
claimed, as  she  gazed  upon  the  Tuilleries,  alive  with  a  crowd 
of  children  and  nurses,  "  Well,  this  is  indeed  a  beautiful 
place!" 

And  what  had  Helen's  feelings  been  during  those  six 
weeks,  so  full  of  interesting  occurrences,  well  fitted  to  divert 
her  mind  from  its  wearing  sorrow  ?  Such  had  not  been 
the  case,  however ;  nothing  seemed  to  revive  her  spirits ; 
and,  day  after  day,  Laura  strove  in  vain  to  discover  the 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         231 

wound  and  apply  a  healing  balm.  Helen  felt  alone  in  the 
world;  nothing  could  fill  the  void  which  Walter  s  death  had 
left  in  her  heart ;  the  link  of  love  woven  in  so  mysterious  a 
manner  was  broken,  and  hope  had  fled.  Letters  from 
home  alone  seemed  to  bring  a  little  change  to  the  state  of 
melancholy  into  which  she  had  fallen. 

Several  from  Mrs.  Leesori  and  Anna  were  joyfully  wel- 
comed by  the  travellers.  Every  mention  of  home  called 
forth  smiles  and  tears,  and  pleasant  were  the  evenings  passed 
in  perusing  these  valuable  epistles.  In  London,  Helen  re- 
ceived a  long  letter  from  Alice  Irving,  and,  as  it  was  the 
bearer  of  some  interesting  news,  perhaps  an  extract  from 
it  might  not  be  amiss  here.  After  expressing  in  a  most 
affectionate  manner  the  sadness  she  had  felt  at  parting 
with  her  friends,  the  little  Quakeress  added — 

"Yes,  dear  Elly,  a  great  revolution  has  taken  place  in  our 
household  since  you  left.  Whether  some  good  genius  has 
visited  Aunt  Martha  and  reasoned  in  my  favour,  or  whether 
the  old  lady  happened  to  remember  that  she  had  been 
young  once  upon  a  time,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  she  told  mother, 
a  few  weeks  ago,  that  she  thought  I  must  have  a  little  com- 
pany, that  young  people  required  it,  and  suggested  my 
receiving  a  few  friends  now  and  then ;  adding  that  she 
would  furnish  the  entertainment.  Is  not  this  a  wonder 
quite  as  astonishing  as  the  seven  of  the  ancients  ?  To  tell 
you  the  truth,  I  suspect  that  wise  old  head  of  Laura's ;  she 
managed  it,  I  know.  Pray  tell  her,  dearest,  how  thankful 
I  feel ;  and,  really,  I  am  better,  more  amiable,  a  great  deal, 
than  I  was :  this  constant  craving  for  an  innocent  and  un- 
attainable pleasure  makes  one  cross  and  sour  betimes. 

"  So  much  for  myself.  Of  your  mother  and  father  and 
sweet  Anna  I  need  not  say  much,  as  I  know  the  latter  is 
writing  to  you,  and  who  can  compete  with  her  pure 

20* 


232  HELEN    LEESON  : 

eloquence?  I  always  tell  Anna  she  has  secret  dealings 
with  the  angels  ;  very  proper  persons  to  be  acquainted  with, 
no  doubt,  but,  somehow  or  other,  I  have  a  decided  pre- 
ference for  less  ethereal  beings.  So  has  Cora  Dalton,  it 
appears,  for  her  engagement  with  Sir  Archibald  Courtnay 
•was  given  out  on  Thursday.  They  say  no  house  in  New 
York  is  large  enough  to  contain  her  felicity ;  it  is  entirely 
too  visible  for  my  taste.  I  saw  her  yesterday,  and  it  was 
crushing,  indeed.  What  a  pity  you  would  not  smile  upon 
him,  Elly  !  though,  indeed,  he  is  terribly  insignificant,  and 
one  don't  fancy  being  condemned  to  everlasting  com- 
panionship with  such  a  husband.  All  for  the  best,  no 
doubt ;  since  I  have  acquired  some  experience  of  the  world 
and  man's  deceit,  I  have  a  very  poor  opinion  of  the  harsher 
sex.  Don't  communicate  my  impressions  to  Robert ;  he 
might  not  be  flattered ;  but  tell  him  I  expect  to  see  wis- 
dom personified  when  he  returns  to  us.  Paris,  they  say, 
however,  is  no  place  for  accomplishing  such  a  metamor- 
phosis. Farewell,  dearest ;  best  love  to  Aunt  Seraph,  my 
sweet  Laura,  and  precious  little  Arty.  Tasso,  whom  I 
sometimes  see  next  door,  is  as  sullen  as  a  lover  deprived  of 
his  mistress.  Farewell !  Truly  your  devoted  and  loving 
friend,  ALICE  I. 

"P.S. — I  never  could  send  a  letter  without  this  little 
extra.  I  forgot  to  mention  that  Grace  Orland,  Emma,  and 
1  have  got  mighty  thick.  Pray  excuse  my  familiar  style, 
Miss  Leeson,  and  tell  me  soon  what  you  thought  of  Scot- 
land, and  especially  of  Miss  Rose  Mac  Tavish.  This  time, 
farewell !" 

Alice's  cheerful  letter  was  greatly  appreciated  by  her 
friends.  Helen  was  pleased  to  hear  of  the  happy  change 
which  had  occurred  in  the  young  girl's  life,  but  not  one 
thought  did  she  give  to  Cora  Dalton's  conquest.  No;  it 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  TOKK  SOCIETY.        233 

passed  from  her  memory  like  the  ripple  upon  the  water, 
leaving  no  trace  whatever. 

"  Did  you  deliver  the  letters  I  gave  you  this  morning, 
Robert?"  said  Miss  Marsy  to  her  nephew,  as  the  family 
sat  at  dinner,  about  a  week  after  their  arrival. 

"Yes ;  and  fortunately  found  no  one  at  home." 

"Fortunately!"  repeated  Laura;  "what  a  savage  you 
are,  my  dear  coz.  Pray,  why  do  you  consider  yourself  so 
lucky  ?" 

"  Because  I  would  have  been  obliged  to  play  the  agree- 
able, and  I  can't  bear  any  thing  artificial." 

"  Why  not  make  it  natural  ?" 

"  Can't  do  it,  Laura  dear — except  in  your  presence. 
Now  let  me  give  you  an  account  of  my  mission.  Madame 
de  Mornay  is  out  of  town,  at  her  chateau;  Madame  de 
Cerny,  who  is  in  Paris,  was  out  with  her  daughters ;  and 
Mr.  Lawrence,  Marvell's  friend,  is  travelling.  So  we  shall, 
I  hope,  not  see  any  of  them  for  some  time.  I  met  a 
quondam  friend  of  mine,  Tom  Harris,  who  promised  to  call 
on  you.  He  is  a  would-be  young  beau,  of  sound  forty, 
very  well  preserved — thanks  to  the  many  little  secrets  used 
by  the  Parisian  artists  !" 

"  I  see  we  are  not  likely  to  be  very  dissipated,"  said 
Miss  Marsy,  smiling.  "  It  suits  me  exactly  ;  but  on  your 
account,  girls,  I  should  have  liked  to  know  a  little  of  French 
society." 

"  Don't  feel  the  slightest  concern  about  us,  aunt,"  said 
Helen.  "  Paris,  possesses  charms  sufficient  to  compensate 
for  the  loss  of  society ;  and  really  I  think  we  would  not 
onjoy  seeing  people  whom  we  do  not  know  at  all.  My  only 
regret  is,  not  being  able  to  tell  Mrs.  Murray  any  thing 
about  her  friend,  Madame  de  Mornay ;  she  spoke  so  highly 
of  her!" 


234  HELEN  LEESON: 

Dinner  being  over,  the  party  adjourned  to  the  parlour. 
Aunt  Seraph,  took  the  Galignani,  Robert  went  out  to  smoko 
his  cigar,  while  Laura  and  Helen  sat  down  on  the  carpet 
to  have  a  game  with  little  Arthur,  who  was  left  to  their 
care  while  Nina  took  her  meal. 

The  little  fellow  was  in  high  spirits,  running  from  his 
cousin  to  his  mother,  kissing  both,  and  creating  great  havoc 
in  their  dresses.  Laura's  fine  hair  hung  loose  on  her 
shoulders,  and  Helen  was  in  the  act  of  arranging  it,  when 
the  servant  opened  the  parlour  door  and  announced — 

"  The  Viscount  de  Mornay." 

Both  ladies  started  up  in  an  instant,  and  made  their 
exit,  leaving  Miss  Marsy  to  explain  their  conduct  to  the 
stranger,  who  advanced  toward  her  with  that  ease  of  man- 
ner which  bespeaks  a  gentleman  in  all  countries. 

"  I  received  Mr.  Leeson's  card  and  Mrs.  Murray's  letter 
to  my  mother,  this  morning,"  said  the  viscount  in  English ; 
"  a  few  weeks  ago,  that  lady  was  kind  enough  to  apprise 
us  of  your  intention  to  visit  Paris.  I  have,  I  believe,  the 
honour  of  addressing  Miss  Marsy." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Aunt  Seraph;  "and  I  am  very 
happy  to  meet  a  friend  of  Mrs.  Murray — one  of  whom  she 
thinks  so  highly." 

'"  She  is  very  kind,  and  we  are  truly  attached  to  her," 
replied  the  young  man ;  "  in  fact,  all  I  have  seen  of  the 
Americans  has  given  me  a  strong  desire  to  become  better 
acquainted  with  them." 

"  Such  an  opinion  is  truly  flattering  to  us,"  answered 
the  old  lady ;  then,  turning  to  Laura  and  Helen,  who  en- 
tered the  room,  she  added :  "  Allow  me  to  introduce  you 
to  my  niece,  Miss  Leeson,  and  the  Countess  Marini,  M.  de 
Mornay." 

*'  We  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  you,  sir,"  said  Laura, 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         235 

who  generally  spoke  for  the  whole  party  ;  "  and  knowing 
that  Madame  de  Mornay  was  out  of  town,  we  were  afraid 
we  would  not  have  the  pleasure  of  making  her  acquaint- 
ance." 

"  My  mother  is  indeed  in  the  country;  but  her  summer 
residence,  the  Chateau  de  Valpres,  is  only  a  few  leagues 
from  Paris,  and  I  trust  you  will  make  us  a  visit  there.  It 
is  an  old  castle,  which  may  possess  some  charms  in  the 
eyes  of  American  travellers." 

"  Certainly,"  continued  the  countess.  "  Helen,  I  think 
you  told  me  Mrs.  Murray  had  described  the  Chateau  de 
Valpres  to  you." 

"Yes,  she  gave  me  a  beautiful  description  of  it;  but 
her  account  of  the  grandeur  and  magnificence  of  the  place 
were  trifling,  compared  to  her  eulogium  of  Madame  de 
Mornay — her  kindness  and  amiable  manners." 

"  Mrs.  Murray  and  my  mother  were  great  friends,"  re- 
plied the  young  man.  "  They  parted  with  regret,  and  at 
that  time  I  promised  to  make  George  a  visit  in  America ; 
but  some  family  matters  have  since  then  prevented  my 
executing  that  plan.  How  do  you  like  Paris,  mademoi- 
selle ?"  continued  M.  de  Mornay,  addressing  himself  to 
Miss  Marsy. 

"  We  have  seen  very  little  of  it  as  yet.  As  far  as  my 
knowledge  goes,  I  think  it  a  very  fine  city." 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  induced  to  remain  some  time  with 
us." 

"A  few  weeks,  I  think,  that  these  ladies  may  visit  all 
the  wonders  of  your  great  capital." 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  be  your  guide ;  my  experience 
may  be  of  some  use  to  you.  It  would  afford  me  infinite 
pleasure." 

"We   accept  your   kind  offer,   M.  de   Mornay,"    said 


236  HELEN  LEESON: 

Laura,  "  and  apologize  now  in  anticipation  of  the  ennui 
we  may  cause  you." 

"  That  would  be  quite  impossible,  I  assure  you.  This  is 
not  a  very  propitious  season  for  seeing  Paris.  We  have 
nothing  very  good  at  the  theatres ;  but  still,  as  a  novelty,  it 
may  be  amusing.  You  must  allow  me  to  send  you  my 
mother's  box  at  the  opera  for  to-morrow  night.  I  will 
meet  you  there,  as  I  suppose  Mr.  Leeson  will  be  your 
escort." 

"Certainly:  we  are  really  indebted  to  you,"  said  Miss 
Marsy.  "  I  do  not  go  to  the  theatre  ;  but  my  nieces  will, 
no  doubt,  be  most  happy  to  avail  themselves  of  your  kind 
offer." 

Laura  and  Helen  having  expressed  their  satisfaction  at 
the  arrangement,  the  young  man  took  leave  of  the  ladies, 
reiterating  his  gracious  expressions  of  devotion. 

"I  have  quite  a  headache  to-night,  girls,"  said  Aunt 
Seraph,  after  having  passed  a  most  exalted  opinion  of  their 
guest ;  "  and  I  am  going  to  bed.  Robert  is  off  to  some 
place  of  amusement.  You  will  have  to  entertain  each 
other  until  Morpheus  claims  you  as  his  own." 

"  How  very  poetical,  dear  aunt !"  replied  Laura,  kissing 
the  kind  friend. 

"  Good-night,  my  darling !  Elly,  dear  child,  sleep 
well,"  continued  Aunt  Seraph,  "and  do  be  a  little  more 
cheerful !" 

"  Now,  cousin,"  said  the  young  countess,  as  she  sat  in 
an  arm-chair,  "  come  here  near  me,  and  let  us  have  a  chat 
about  that  handsome  Gustave,  whom  I  like  amazingly. 
What  say  you  of  his  stylish  appearance  and  aristocratic 
manners  ?" 

"  I  was  very  much  pleased  with  him  ;  agreeably  disap- 
pointed— for  I  thought  he  must  be  stiff  and  affected." 


A   PEEP    AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  237 

"  Not  in  the  least ;  he  just  strikes  my  fancy  ;  and,  from 
what  Mrs.  Murray  said  of  him,  I  should  think  he  was  an 
excellent  young  man.  I  wish  he  could  win  your  heart, 
Helen!"  " 

"A  poor  prize  it  would  be,  Laura.  You  don't  know 
^hat  a  blighted  thing  that  heart  is  !" 

So  saying,  she  took  a  low  seat  at  Laura's  feet,  and 
rested  her  head  on  her  cousin's  lap. 

"  Nonsense,  darling  !"  said  the  young  countess,  as  she 
patted  the  pale  cheek  and  stooped  to  kiss  away  the  tear 
which  fell  upon  it.  "  Helen,  you  are  nervous  and  home- 
sick, or  else  you  are  in  love." 

"  Neither  ;  but  I  have  a  painful  sensation  of  undefinable 
misery  which  I  cannot  control." 

"  What  is  this  around  your  neck,  dearest  ?"  asked  Laura, 
anxious  to  divert  the  young  girl's  attention.  "A  gold 
chain?  Oh  !  let  me  look  at  it.  What !  a  mystery?"  she 
added,  as  Helen  pressed  her  hands  on  her  bosom,  as  if  to 
arrest  Laura's  curiosity.  Suddenly,  however,  as  though 
struck  by  an  inspiration,  she  drew  from  it  a  small  locket 
which  hung  on  the  chain,  and  gave  it  to  Laura. 

"  Helen,  is  it  possible !"  exclaimed  the  young  countess. 
"  And  was  it  so  ?  Did  you  love  him  ?" 

"  I  did,"  sobbed  the  poor  child,  burying  her  head  in  hei 
hands. 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  I  might  have  written  to 
him.  Poor  fellow !  that  so  much  happiness  should  have 
been  his,  and  he  not  know  it !  I  do  pity  you,  dearest." 

"  Oh,  Laura !  God  only  knows  what  I  have  endured,  all 
alone.  Do  you  think  he  hated  me  ?  Were  his  last  words 
a  curse  upon  my  cruelty  ?" 

"  No  !  Walter's  nature  was  too  noble  to  admit  of  such 
a  feeling.  I  rather  think  he  must  have  blessed  you,  for 


238  HELEN  LEESON: 

his  was  a  pure,  disinterested  affection.  He  certain]}'  gave 
proof  of  it." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  He  was  nohle,  kind-hearted,  so  patient ;  and 
T,  proud,  arrogant  spirit,  did  not  grant  him  one  look  of 
mercy.  That  thought  breaks  rny  heart." 

Helen  related  to  her  adopted  sister  every  phase  of  her 
mysterious  love.  It  was  a  terrible  effort,  which  made  her 
cheek  turn  alternately  pale  and  crimson  ;  but  it  brought 
relief.  There  was  a  strange  similarity  in  the  fate  of  the 
cousins,  which  rendered  them  still  more  dear  to  each  other. 
Laura's  experience  inspired  words  of  sympathy  and  com- 
fort, which  soothed  the  aching  spirit ;  and  after  that  sweet 
communion  with  a  fellow-sufferer,  Helen's  heart  was  alle- 
viated of  an  immense  weight  of  anguish.  She  felt  more 
resigned;  and,  quite  determined  to  remain  faithful  to  the 
memory  of  her  husband,  a  life  of  meek  submission  dawned 
upon  the  young  girl. 

"  We  will  bear  our  cross  together,  dearest,"  said  the 
countess.  "  Affection  is  the  blessed  staff  which  God 
has  provided  for  the  weary  traveller  through  the  toilsome 
journey  of  life.  It  is  the  pure  light  which  disperses  the 
gloom  of  sorrow,  and  makes  all  things  possible.  Now, 
good-night,  darling  ;  and  pray  keep  no  more  secrets  to  your 
own  little  self.  Few  young  hearts  are  large  enough  to 
contain  such  cares  ;"  and,  with  a  playful  caress,  the  cousins 
parted. 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK  SOCIETY.  239 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  day  after  his  visit  to  the  Hotel  Meurice,  the  Viscount 
de  Mornay  wrote  as  follows  to  his  mother : — 

"  I  am  still  under  the  influence  of  the  beautiful  vision 
which  I  saw  last  evening.  Mr.  Leeson,  whom  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray recommended  to  us  lately,  arrived  in  Paris,  a  few  days 
ago,  with  his  aunt,  sister,  and  cousin.  As  he  left  his  card 
and  letter  of  introduction  here  yesterday,  I  thought  myself, 
as  a  true  worshipper  of  the  fair  sex,  in  duty  bound  to  pay 
my  respects  to  those  ladies  immediately.  I  accordingly 
called  upon  them  in  the  evening,  and  was  fully  repaid  for 
the  slight  exertion.  Nothing  can  be  more  charming  than 
the  two  cousins.  The  Countess  Marini  is  fair,  with  soft 
blue  eyes,  and  exquisite  light  curls.  She  is  lovely,  but 
cannot  compare  with  the  Grecian  beauty  of  'la  belle 
Heliikie.'  If  her  namesake  in  days  of  yore  was  half  as 
bewitching,  poor  Paris  is  more  to  be  pitied  than  blamed. 
Such  features,  such  an  air  of  refinement  and  elegance !  I 
was  completely  fascinated,  and  look  forward  to  seeing 
those  ladies  this  evening  at  the  opera  with  great  pleasure. 
Now,  dear  mother,  I  am  sure  you  intend  to  show  Mrs. 
Murray's  friends  some  politeness.  Pray  let  me  know  how 
it  shall  be  shaped.  I  am  ready  to  act  any  part  you  ch;>ose 
to  assign  to  me,  even  that  of  devoted  lover  to  Miss  Leeson. 
Farewell.  Ever  your  own 

"  GUSTAVE." 

The  viscount   met   Laura,   Helen,   and  Robert  at  the 

21 


240  HELEN  LEESON: 

theatre.  A  very  agreeable  evening  increased  the  interest 
and  good  feeling  which  their  first  interview  had  created. 
As  the  young  man  had  announced  to  his  guests,  the  per- 
formance was  by  no  means  equal  to  those  which  the  fas- 
tidious Parisians  are  accustomed  to.  But,  the  scenery  and 
choruses  being  fair,  and  the  orchestra  very  good,  upon  the 
whole  it  was  very  gratifying  to  the  travellers ;  and  several 
hours  glided  away  before  they  were  aware  of  it. 

On  the  following  day,  while  the  ladies  were  preparing 
for  a  drive  to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  Madame  de  Cerny  and 
her  daughters  were  announced. 

Miss  Marsy's  toilet  being  less  elaborate  than  that  of  her 
nieces,  she  was  the  only  one  ready  to  receive  the  strangers. 

Madame  de  Cerny  was  an  elderly  person,  not  at  all 
handsome,  but  extremely  genteel  in  her  appearance,  of 
easy  and  agreeable  manners.  As  she  was  not  familiar  with 
the  English  language,  and  as  Aunt  Seraph's  prejudices  had 
prevented  her  ever  devoting  much  study  to  French,  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  the  two  ladies  exchanged  those  simple 
civilities  which  lead  to  general  conversation. 

"  My  daughter  Blanche  speaks  English  very  well,"  said 
Madame  de  Cerny. 

In  fact,  the  young  girl  proved  a  most  capable  and  elo- 
quent interpreter :  and  she  was  in  the  act  of  transferring 
a  gracious  expression  from  her  mother  to  Miss  Marsy, 
when  Laura  and  Helen  came  in  ;  and  as  both  were  excel- 
lent French  scholars,  Aunt  Seraph  was  partially  relieved 
of  her  responsibility  as  a  hostess. 

Blanche  and  Isaure  de  Cerny  were  fine,  stylish-looking 
girls.  Isaure  was  the  more  showy  of  the  two,  but 
Blanche  decidedly  the  prettier — of  that  French  prettiness 
which  does  not  consist  in  extreme  regularity  of  features, 
but  in  that  grace  of  expression  which  is  an  irresistible 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  241 

charm ;  one  which  regular  beauty  does  not  always  possess. 
There  was  so  much  intelligence  in  those  large  black  eyes, 
so  much  bewitching  softness  in  the  heavy  lashes  which 
vailed  them,  that  one  could  not  pause  to  consider  whether 
the  mouth,  which  displayed  those  exquisite  teeth,  was  not 
too  large  for  the  criterion  of  perfection.  In  short,  Blanche 
was  considered  a  beauty ;  and  although  the  fair  of  her 
native  land  have  frequently  been  accused  of  overrating 
their  advantages,  that  reproach  could  not  be  addressed  to 
Mademoiselle  de  Cerny. 

Both  sisters  were  extremely  modest  and  retiring  in  their 
manners,  agreeable,  and  possessing  a  great  fund  of  conver- 
sation, but  without  the  slightest  aim  at  brilliancy — ever 
seeking  the  protecting  knowledge  of  their  mother.  There 
may  be  some  objections  to  French  education  in  general ; 
but  in  this  particular  point — the  moral  dependence  of  chil- 
dren on  their  parents — they  are  to  be  admired  and  copied. 

Notwithstanding  her  strong  disapprobation  of  French 
manners,  customs,  etc.,  Aunt  Seraph  could  not  help  ac- 
knowledging to  Laura  that  she  had  been  very  much 
pleased  with  the  three  ladies.  "But,"  she  added,  "they 
must  be  exceptions.  All  I  have  heard  of  French  women 
was  very  different." 

Among   the  many  who  have  written  on  such  subjects, 
how  few  there  are  who  have  had  the  opportunity  of  a  the 
rough  acquaintance   with  those  whom  they  thus   criticise, 
and  whose  character  they  attempt  to  describe,  as  though  it 
were  a  passing  landscape,  without  further  investigation  ! 

After  Madame  de  Cerny  and  her  daughters  had  left, 
our  ladies  started  for  their  drive  to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
little  Arthur  being  one  of  the  party. 

The  Parisian  world  of  fashion  was  out  of  town  ;  but 
there  were  still  many  elegant  equipages  to  be  seen.  The 


242  HELEN  LEESON: 

Champs  Elysees  were  crowded  with  pedestrians,  all  more 
or  less  cheerful,  but  appearing  to  appreciate  their  recreation 
exceedingly. 

What  a  benefit  those  public  parks  and  gardens  are  to 
the  masses  of  human  beings  whom  fate  has  condemned  to 
live  in  close,  unhealthy  lodgings,  and  who,  like  the  caged 
bird,  sigh  for  space  and  air  !  An  honr  spent  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  these  blessings  will  give  the  suiferer  new  life  and 
courage  to  resume  his  painful  labour. 

"  Happiness  lies  in  fancy."  To  a  certain  extent,  this  is 
true.  Is  it  not  essential,  then,  that  those  deprived  of  real 
happiness  should  be  provided  with  the  recreation  essential 
to  man,  both  morally  and  physically,  thus  furnishing  the 
mind  with  food  adequate  to  supply  the  absence  of  actual 
pleasure  ?  This  is  not  sufficiently  considered  in  our  coun- 
try. The  blessed  prosperity  which  has  always  shone  upon 
our  people  has  not  rendered  those  minute  details  of  human 
economy  of  vital  importance ;  but  let  adversity,  care, 
misery  in  its  appalling  reality,  settle  as  a  permanent  resi- 
dent in  our  population,  then  will  the  want  of  those  places 
of  resort,  which  all  can  benefit  from,  be  felt.  Money ! 
money !  Measure  the  joys  and  comforts  of  your  fellow- 
beings  by  that  metallic  standard,  and  see  what  the  con- 
sequences will  be ! 

But,  led  away  by  a  sincere  wish  to  benefit  the  less-fa- 
voured portion  of  mankind,  whom  the  Saviour  has  pointed 
out  as  our  brethren,  we  have  wandered  far  from  our  sub- 
ject, and  must  return  with  our  little  elf,  Fancy,  to  the  car- 
riage wherein  kind  Aunt  Seraph  and  her  nieces  are  enjoying 
the  beauties  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and  attracting  a 
great  deal  of  attention — almost  too  much  for  their  satis- 
faction, and  quite  enough  to  make  Robert  exclaim — 

"These   Frenchmen    are   mighty  impertinent    fellows, 


A    PEEP    AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  243 

by  Jove !     I   would   like   to   give   them   a   piece  of  my 
mind !" 

"  A  hard  matter,  mj  dear  fellow,  as  you  do  not  speak 
their  language,"  said  Laura,  laughing.  "  And,  pray,  of 
what  consequence  is  it  that  they  should  look  at  us? 
Helen  and  I  do  not  attach  any  importance  to  their  scrutiny 
of  our  foreign  air." 

"  How  happy  I  am  to  meet  you,  ladies  !"  said  M.  de 
Mornay,  as  he  rode  up  to  the  carriage  ;  "  I  hope  your  un- 
interesting evening  at  the  opera  did  not  give  you  too  much 
annoyance." 

"  Oh,  no  ! — on  the  contrary,  it  was  most  agreeable,"  an- 
swered Laura.  "  What  a  beautiful  horse  you  are  riding, 
M.  de  Mornay !" 

"  A  pet  of  mine,  to  whom  I  have  given  an  English  title 
— Fox.  Do  you  ride,  ladies  ?" 

"  Sometimes ;  that  is,  my  cousin  is  an  experienced  horse- 
woman, but  I  am  too  timid,"  replied  the  countess. 

"It  would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  be  your  escort,  Miss 
Leeson,"  said  the  young  man.  "  My  mother  has  an  excel- 
lent lady's  horse,  which  M'lle  Blanche  de  Cerny,  whom 
you  know,  I  believe,  has  ridden  very  often ;  he  is  perfectly 
safe.  Will  you  not  allow  me  to  have  him  at  your  orders 
in  a  few  days?" 

'  Certainly,"  said  Laura.  "  My  cousin  will  not  answer 
for  herself,  because  she  is  so  very  discreet;  but  I  know  she 
will  enjoy  it  exceedingly." 

"  My  mother  will  be  in  town  to-morrow,"  continued  the 
young  man.  "  She  is  most  anxious  to  make  your  acquaint- 
ance. I  hope  we  will  prevail. upon  you  to  name  a  day  to 
make  us  a  visit  at  Valpres.  I  feel  confident  you  will  fancy 
the  old  castle." 

"I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Miss  Marsy,  who  had  taken 

21* 


244  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  secret  resolution  of  declining  Madame  de  Mornay's 
invitation. 

The  young  viscount  took  leave  of  the  ladies,  and  they 
proceeded  on  their  drive.  Little  Arthur  having  become 
restless  and  anxious  to  run  about,  the  party  alighted,  and 
the  child  was  enjoying  the  sport,  when  he  suddenly  ex- 
claimed—" Friend  Dob  !  friend  Dob  !" 

It  was,  in  fact,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dobbins,  promenading,  at 
the  fashionable  slow  pace,  in  the  avenues  ;  both  apparently 
little  diverted  and  under  evident  restraint. 

"  How  are  you,  my  darling  boy  ?"  said  the  worthy  fellow, 
as  he  caught  the  child  up  in  his  arms.  "  Why,  you  have 
grown  so  tall !  .  And  what  a  fine  cap  Arty  has  on  !  Good- 
morning,  ladies,"  added  Mr.  Dobbins,  shaking  hands  with 
all  in  a  most  sociable  manner ;  "  I  am  so  happy  to  meet 
you  !  not  a  familiar  face  have  I  seen  since  we  arrived  here." 

Olivia  had  already  exchanged  some  greeting  with  her 
New  York  friends.  But  a  great  change  had  taken  place 
in  her  appearance  since  they  parted  at  Liverpool.  She 
was  dressed  in  the  height  of  fashion,  and  had  adopted 
what  is  called  the  French  style  of  expressing  one's  self; 
that  is,  great  affectation.  As  far  as  our  experience  goes, 
we  have  generally  found  that  those  who  imitated  the  French 
women  were  infinitely  more  artificial  than  they  are  them- 
selves. It  was  the  case  with  Olivia.  She  had  made  several 
acquaintances  among  the  ultra-fashionables,  and  in  attempt- 
ing to  raise  her  style  and  manners  to  their  criterion,  she 
had  overleaped  the  mark,  and  stood  in  the  full  possession 
of  unconscious  ridicule. 

Poor  Dobbins,  who  was  a  mere  echo  of  his  high-toned 
lady,  dared  not  make  the  least  observation ;  but  his  sensi- 
tive nature  was  sorely  crushed,  and  more  than  once  he  had 
wished  himself  amid  the  wilds  of  India. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        245 

"  We  are  staying  at  Meurice's,  Mr.  Dobbins,"  said  Laura : 
"  do  come  and  see  us  very  often.  Arty  is  so  fond  of  you ; 
he  talks  incessantly  of  your  kind  feats  in  his  favour  on  board 
the  Atlantic." 

"  I  will  come  very  soon,"  answered  the  dejected  husband, 
as  he  hastened  to  join  his  better,  or  rather  worse,  half,  who 
had  flounced  off  at  some  distance  from  her  American  friends. 

"  It  is  getting  late,"  said  Miss  Marsy ;  "  come,  my  chil- 
dren, let  us  return  to  the  carriage ;  you  know  Robert  has 
promised  you  a  treat  for  this  evening." 

And  the  party  returned  to  the  hotel. 


246  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"  IT  is  perfectly  ridiculous  in  you,  Laura,  to  oblige  me 
to  go  to  Madame  de  Mornay's,"  said  Miss  Marsy,  as  she 
rose  from  the  breakfast-table,  a  few  days  after  her  drive  to 
the  Bois. 

"Ridiculous!  why  so,  my  dear 'aunt?"  answered  the 
countess. 

"  Of  course  ;  what  kind  of  a  figure  will  I  cut  among  all 
those  French  people,  with  their  fine  airs  and  elaborate 
dressing?" 

"  Did  you  notice  any  thing  of  that  sort  in  Madame  de 
Mornay?"  asked  Laura.  "I  think  I  heard  you  say  she 
•was  a  charming  woman — one  of  the  most  agreeable  you  had 
ever  met  with." 

"  Certainly,  I  think  so ;  but  you  know,  Laura,  she  is  an 
exception;  her  company  must  be  very  different." 

"Now,  Aunt  Seraph,"  said  the  countess,  laughing,  "al- 
low me  to  remind  you  of  a  fact.  You  said  that  Madame 
de  Cerny  and  her  daughters  were  exceptions ;  Madame  de 
Mornay  being  another,  where,  then,  is  the  unexceptionable 
rule  upon  which  your  opinion  of  French  ladies  is  founded  ?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know ;  but  the  fact  is,  I  would  rather  not 
accompany  you  to-day.  Methinks  three  of  our  party  are 
quite  enough  to  assail  the  Chateau  de  Valpre's." 

"  With  such  an  invitation  as  we  received  from  Madame  de 
Mornay,"  said  Laura,  "  I  would  have  no  objection  to  spend- 
ing a  week  with  her.  And  besides,  aunt,  you  must  go, 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YOP.K  SOCIETY.        247 

because  I  never  could  tell  a  fib  without  blushing ;  and  how 
can  I  apologize  for  your  absence?" 

"  Say  I  am  ill — engaged — any  thing  you  please." 

"No,  I  will  not  give  up  to  you  this  time;  and  if  you  do 
not  dress  immediately  to  go  with  us,  we  will  quarrel,  Miss 
Marsy." 

As  usual,  Laura  won  her  point,  and  the  old  friend,  after 
having  appealed  to  her  niece  for  various  little  suggestions 
regarding  her  cap,  and  having  declared  repeatedly  that  she 
was  making  a  fool  of  herself,  entered  the  parlour  at  ten 
o'clock,  fully  equipped  for  the  encounter  of  a  real  French 
party. 

A  few  moments  afterward,  M.  de  Mornay  called  for  the 
ladies,  and  in  half  an  hour  they  were  comfortably  seated 
in  the  cars,  Arty  and  Nina  included,  the  little  fellow  hav- 
ing received  an  especial  invitation. 

The  trip  proved  a  most  agreeable  one.  The  young  vis- 
count was  full  of  wit  and  amusing  anecdotes ;  and  as  they 
passed  the  spots  which  possessed  any  interest,  he  pointed 
them  out  to  the  travellers,  saying — 

"  But  we  cannot  compete  with  you  as  regards  picturesque 
scenery.  I  read,  a  few  days  ago,  one  of  M.  de  Cerny's 
letters  to  his  father,  in  which  he  gives  an  exquisite  descrip- 
tion of  Niagara." 

"  No  one  can  speak  more  eloquently  of  the  beauties  of 
nature  than  M.  de  Cerny,"  said  Helen.  "  I  had  the  plea- 
sure of  hearing  him  once  on  his  favourite  theme :  it  was 
most  gratifying.  He  must  be  an  excellent  man,  for  he 
speaks  from  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  and  his  narratives  are 
beaming  with  charity." 

"  He  is  indeed  a  noble  fellow,  and  it  is  very  painful  fot 
his  mother  to  be  so  often  separated  from  him.  For  many 
years  ho  has  devoted  his  whole  attention  to  scientific  pur- 


248  HELEN  LEESON: 

suits,  to  accomplish  which  he  has  of  course  been  obliged  to 
travel  a  great  deal." 

"  I  hope  you  will  take  a  fancy  to  locomotion  also,  M. 
Gustave,"  said  Robert,  who  had  become  quite  intimate  with 
the  young  Frenchman,  much  to  Aunt  Seraph's  dread.  The 
old  lady  was  not  aware  of  her  nephew's  being  already  an 
adept  in  all  the  evils  he  might  have  acquired  from  the 
Parisians. 

"  How  far  is  your  place  from  here  ?"  asked  Laura,  as 
they  stopped  at  one  of  the  stations. 

"  Only  one  league.  We  will  be  there  very  soon.  Now, 
Master  Arthur,  come  here  to  me,  and  tell  me  how  you  like 
Paris." 

"  Very  well ;  very  pretty,"  said  the  little  man,  with  a 
amile,  and  a  pull  at  the  young  man's  watch. 

"  Since  I  have  had  the  honour  of  your  acquaintance,  I 
never  thought  of  asking  you  whether  you  were  fond  of 
music,  ladies,  or  rather  whether  you  were  musical?"  said 
M.  de  Mornay. 

"  All  very  fond  of  it,"  answered  Laura  ;  "  and  this  quiet 
lady  here  has  a  magnificent  voice,  worthy  of  better  judges 
than  we  are." 

"How  delighted  my  mother  will  be  to  hear  you!" 
said  the  viscount;  "she  is  so  extravagantly  fond  of 
music." 

"Oh!  I  would  not  sing  in  Paris  on  any  account," 
•replied  Helen.  "Pray,  do  not  ask  me;  I  should  be 
frightened  to  death." 

"  How  ridiculous  !"  said  Laura. 

"  We  will  claim  the  intervention  of  your  authority,  Miss 
Marsy,"  added  the  young  man. 

"  Oh !  I  have  none,  sir ;  not  the  least ;  these  ladies 
manage  me  entirely,"  said  Aunt  Seraph,  smiling. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         249 

"  Here  we  are  !"  exclaimed  little  Arthur,  as  the  cars 
stopped,  and  he  saw  M.  de  Mornay  leap  out  and  offer  his 
hand  to  the  ladies. 

"  Pray,  follow  me,"  he  said;  "my  mother's  carriage 
must  be  waiting  for  us.  Here  are  two  at  our  orders.  We 
will  occupy  this  one ;  Etienne  can  take  charge  of  Master 
Arthur  and  his  nurse." 

The  party  started,  and  in  a  short  time  they  entered  the 
gates  of  the  Park  de  Valpres. 

"  What  immense  trees  !  This  is  almost  a  forest,"  said 
Miss  Marsy.  "  One  might  fancy  oneself  a  hundred  miles 
from  Paris.  And  these  pretty  little  deer  are  so  tame; 
what  graceful  creatures !" 

"  Mother  does  not  allow  any  shooting  on  this  side  of  her 
property,  and  these  fellows  are  quite  sociable." 

"I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  ladies,"  said  Madame  de 
Mornay,  coming  forward  to  receive  her  guests,  as  they 
alighted  from  the  carriage.  "  It  is  so  kind  in  you  to  come 
this  dist^ace  !  But  the  Americans,  I  believe,  are  the  best 
travellers  in  the  world." 

"  With  such  an  inducement  as  we  had  to-day,"  replied 
the  countess,  "  we  would  have  undertaken  a  much  longer 
journey.  The  trip  appeared  very  short  in  such  good  com- 
pany," she  added,  turning  toward  M.  de  Mornay. 

The  young  man  bowed,  and  then  offered  his  arm  to  Miss 
Marsy  to  escort  her  to  the  parlour,  where  five  or  six  ladies 
and  gentlemen  were  already  assembled. 

"  My  guests  are  compelled  to  devote  the  whole  day 
to  me,  as  there  are  no  means  of  communicating  with  Paris 
except  morning  and  evening,"  said  the  amiable  hostess. 
"I  am  the  gainer  by  this  arrangement.  Will  you  take 
this  seat,  Miss  Marsy  ?  You  are,  I  believe,  acquainted 
with  Madame  de  Cerny  and  her  daughters?  Let  me 


250  HELEN  LEESON: 

introduce  Madame  Dorival  to  you ;  she  speaks  English  per- 
fectly." 

"  "Will  you  not  allow  me  to  take  you  to  my  room,  ma- 
demoiselle ?"  said  Blanche  de  Cerny  to  Helen :  "  it  will 
be  more  convenient  for  you  to  leave  your  honnets  and 
shawls  there ;  and  this  little  gentleman  no  doubt  requires 
a  rest." 

"  Yes,  Blanche,  take  charge  of  the  Countess  Marini  and 
Miss  Leeson,"  said  Madame  de  Mornay.  "  Miss  Marsy 
will  be  kind  enough  to  follow  me  through  this  old-fashioned 
labyrinth.  I  want  you  to  take  a  look  at  this  old  place 
before  we  settle  down  for  the  day.  You  know  you  are 
mine  until  nine  o'clock  this  evening.  Gustave  will  escort 
you  to  Paris." 

"  I  should  be  distressed  to  give  him  so  much  trouble." 

"  Don't  mention  it,  pray.  My  son  has  been  brought  up 
with  a  slight  tinge  of  chivalry ;  and  for  a  great  deal  I  Avould 
not  that  he  should  be  less  attentive  to  ladies." 

Let  us  pause  one  moment  to  say  a  few  words  of  Mrs. 
Murray's  friend,  while  she  is  doing  the  honours  of  her  resi- 
dence with  truly  Creole  grace  and  hospitality,  and  obtaining 
jnore  and  more  regard  from  her  guests. 

Madame  de  Mornay  had  been  a  beautiful  woman,  and  still 
possessed  sufficient  personal  charms  to  elicit  a  great  deal 
of  admiration  from  those  who  study  and  appreciate  the 
exquisite  outline  of  a  regular  profile.  She  might,  have  been 
forty,  but  was  certainly  not  fifty.  A  judicious  selection  of 
becoming,  and  appropriate  dress  rendered  a  positive  know- 
ledge of  hej;  age  a  difficult  matter.  But  that  was  of  trifling 
consequence;  in  fact,  one  was  never  tempted  to  discuss  the 
point,  for  Madame  de  Mornay's  extreme  affability  of  man- 
ners won  all  hearts  to  her  at  once.  She  was  a  general 
fa  vourite,  possessed  many  friends,  young  and  old,  and  to 


A    PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  251 

the  tastes  and  dispositions  of  all  she  conformed  with  that 
elasticity  of  intellect  and  feeling  which  springs  from  a  cul- 
tivated mind  and  a  noble  heart. 

"Now,  my  dear  Miss  Marsy,"  said  the  lady  of  Valpres, 
as  she  led  her  guests  into  the  dining-room,  where  a  lunch 
was  prepared,  "  I  hope  you  will  like  our  little  intimate 
circle.  I  selected  those  whom  I  thought  might  be  congenial 
to  you,  with  the  addition  of  a  few  young  people  to  enter- 
tain your  nieces." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  your  friends  are  charming,"  answered 
Aunt  Seraph,  whose  charitable  feelings  were  gradually 
getting  the  better  of  her  prejudices. 

After  lunch,  the  party  repaired  to  the  drawing-room, 
which  was  furnished  with  comfort  and  elegance,  but  none 
of  that  crushing  splendour  which  struck  us  so  disagreeably 
in  Mrs.  Seyton's  magnificent  residence.  Every  article  of 
furniture  which  could  contribute  to  comfort  or  pleasure  had 
been  crowded  in  that  spacious  saloon.  Soft  arm-chairs 
and  lounges  of  all  styles,  tables  for  work  or  cards,  others 
covered  with  fine  engravings.  On  many  stood  vases  of 
flowers,  reflected  in  the  large  mirrors  which  hung  around 
the  room,  giving  it  that  cheerful  appearance  which  no 
amount  of  gilding  can  produce.  How  true  the  remark, 
that  mirrors  are  to  a  drawing-room  what  water  is  to  a 
landscape ! 

We  must  not  forget  to  mention  one  of  Erard's  fine 
pianos,  whose  melodious  strains  so  often  charmed  the  ram- 
blers, when,  after  a  long  stroll  in  the  grounds,  they  re- 
turned to  the  parlour  to  luxuriate  in  the  many  intellectual 
pursuits  of  which  it  contained  the  elements. 

Madame  de  Cerny  and  the  other  ladies  were  engaged  in 
some  elegant  feminine  occupation  when  Madame  de  Mor- 
nay  and  her  American  friends  entered.  All  rose  to  make 

22 


252  HELEN  LEESON: 

room  for  them,  and  the  conversation  soon  ran  on  various 
interesting  topics  ;  it  was  carried  on  principally  in  French ; 
but  Madame  Dorival  addressed  her  remarks  in  English  to 
Aunt  Seraph,  translating  also,  for  her  benefit,  the  most 
striking  points  in  the  general  conversation. 

"We  cannot  think  of  spending  the  morning  without 
having  a  little  music,"  said  the  hostess.  "Ladies,  I  claim 
your  daily  contribution  to  our  enjoyment.  Mademoiselle 
Isaure's  usual  compliance  with  our  desires  will,  I  trust, 
display  itself  on  this  occasion,"  added  Madame  de  Mornay, 
smiling. 

Mademoiselle  de  Cerny  rose  immediately  and  executed 
several  reminiscences  from  different  operas  ;  after  which 
Miss  Blanche  sang,  in  an  artistical  manner,  an  Italian 
cavatina. 

Helen  listened  with  intense  satisfaction  to  the  scientific 
performance  of  both  ladies ;  but  an  annoying  feeling  of 
dread  crept  over  her  as  she  saw  the  viscount  whisper  to  his 
mother.  Madame  de  Mornay  went  up  to  Helen,  and, 
taking  her  hand,  gently  obliged  her  to  rise,  saying — 

"  Miss  Leeson,  my  son  has  just  told  me  that  you  sang  ; 
•we  claim  the  privilege  of  hearing  you." 

"Oh,  no;  I  cannot,  indeed!"  said  Helen;  "after  such 
beautiful  singing,  mine  would  sound  very  discordantly  to 
your  musical  ear." 

"  Allow  us  to  judge  of  that.  Now,  only  one  little  song  ! 
After  that,  we  will  take  a  walk.  I  have  many  pretty  things 
to  show  you." 

Finding  that  it  was  impossible  to  refuse — Laura  having 
encouraged  Madame  de  Mornay  in  her  request,  by  assert- 
ing that  her  cousin  had  a  very  good  voice — Helen,  who 
had  received  excellent  lessons  in  New  York,  and  who  really 
could  sing  well,  selected  a  simple  song  from  Miss  Blanche's 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         253 

portfolio,  and,  with  much  hesitation,  at  last  succeeded  in 
accomplishing  the  great  feat  of  singing  before  a  French 
audience  :  her  emotion  having  increased  the  richness  of 
her  voice,  it  produced  a  wonderful  effect. 

"How  exquisite!"  exclaimed  Madame  de  Mornay. 
"  Would  it  not  have  been  cruel  in  you  to  deprive  us  of  so 
much  pleasure  ?" 

Gustave  was  sparing  of  his  praise,  but  he  was  evidently 
charmed ;  and  Laura,  who,  as  Alice  Irving  had  re- 
marked, was  wonderfully  wise,  watched  with  satisfaction 
the  increasing  admiration  of  the  young  viscount  for  her 
cousin. 

"  Now,  shall  I  show  you  this  old  place,  its  grounds,  and 
fine  trees,  before  dinner  ?"  asked  Madame  de  Mornay. 

"  Certainly,  dear  madame,"  replied  the  countess. 

Some  of  the  ladies  joined  the  party,  and  the  others 
retired  to  their  respective  apartments. 

The  ChUteau  de  Valpres  had  been  built  some  three 
hundred  years;  and  although  the  interior  distribution  had 
been  altered,  in  order  to  introduce  the  improvements  of 
this  fastidious  age,  it  still  retained  that  stamp  of  antiquity 
which  to  the  lovers  of  romance  is  so  full  of  interest.  It 
was  situated  upon  an  eminence  commanding  a  view  of  the 
surrounding  country.  The  park  and  grounds  were  exten- 
sive, and  laid  out  in  the  English  style.  But  what  was 
most  striking  and  novel  to  the  looker-on  was  the  immense 
lawn  or  prairie,  which  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ex- 
tended its  emerald  plain,  producing  the  effect  of  a  sheet  of 
water.  At  night,  by  moonlight,  when  a  slight  vapour  arose 
from  the  dewy  grass,  the  delusion  was  complete. 

Miss  Marsy,  who  was  a  genuine  lover  of  nature's  charms, 
was  delighted  with  the  many  attractions  of  the  old  domain. 
She  was  bountiful  in  its  praise ;  and  once,  as  Laura  hap- 


254  HELEN  LEESON: 

pened  to  pass  near  her  aunt,  she  said,  hurriedly — "  How 
sorry  I  should  have  been  to  miss  all  these  beautiful 
sights !" 

Madame  de  Mornay  led  her  guests  through  her  spacious 
green-houses.  From  there,  they  went  to  the  pheasantry, 
and  had  occasion  to  admire  many  rustic  constructions,  which 
displayed  not  only  a  great  deal  of  taste,  but  an  uncommon 
regard  for  the  comfort  of  the  little  feathered  tribe,  who 
were  thus  deprived  of  their  native  air  and  liberty  to  gratify 
the  fancy  of  man.  Farther  on,  they  saw  the  park,  in  which 
the  deer  found  a  warm  shelter  in  winter.  There  were 
several  at  rest,  and  with  graceful  shyness  they  came  for- 
ward to  receive  a  caress  or  a  morsel  of  cake  from  the 
visitors. 

An  hour  was  thus  spent  very  agreeably;  and  when  they 
returned  to  the  chateau,  Madame  de  Mornay  invited  the 
ladies  to  rest  in  her  boudoir  while  she  retired  to  dress  for 
dinner. 

"  Who  can  this  be  ?"  said  Laura,  as  she  rose  from  a 
lounge,  attracted  to  the  window  by  the  noise  of  horses. 

"  What  a  handsome  woman  !"  added  Helen ;  "  but  a  very 
masculine-looking  person.  Ah  !  M.  de  Mornay  is  assisting 
her  to  dismount.  I  suppose  she  is  going  to  dine  here." 

Helen  was  not  mistaken.  As  Miss  Marsy  and  her  nieces 
entered  the  drawing-room,  they  found  quite  an  addition  to 
the  party  they  had  met  there  in  the  morning.  Several 
gentlemen  had  arrived  from  Paris;  and  the  Amazon  who 
had  attracted  their  attention,  having  changed  her  riding- 
habit  for  an  elegant  toilet,  was  reclining  upon  one  of  the 
sofas,  surrounded  by  three  or  four  admirers,  whom  she  ap- 
peared to  be  entertaining  in  a  most  absorbing  manner. 

All,  however,  turned  around  as  the  American  ladies  rnado 
their  appearance,  and  a  scrutinizing  glance  was  for  au 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         255 

instant  riveted  upon  the  cousins.  Generally  speaking, 
foreigners  are  greatly  appreciated  in  Paris,  and  real  beauty 
receives  more  incense  there  than  elsewhere.  It  was 
not  astonishing,  therefore,  that  Laura  and  Helen  should 
have  excited  such  an  expression  of  admiration,  silent 
as  it  was. 

Madame  de  Lorville,  accustomed  to  the  undisputed  homage 
of  the  inmates  of  Valpres,  was  not  exactly  charmed  with 
the  slight  diversion  which  the  entrance  of  our  ladies  pro- 
duced. She  was  a  consummate  coquette — a  second  and 
more  experienced  Mrs.  Seyton  ;  that  is,  to  obtain  the  same 
success,  she  required  more  skill.  Madame  de  Lorville  was 
not  a  favourite  with  Gustave's  mother ;  but  as  they  were 
neighbours  and  visited  the  same  circle  in  Paris,  and  as  M. 
de  Lorville  was  an  influential  man,  it  was  a  difficult  matter 
to  keep  the  lady  at  a  visiting  distance. 

"  I  did  not  intend  that  you  should  meet  this  giddy  little 
creature  here  to-day,"  whispered  Madame  de  Mornay  to 
Miss  Marsy,  as  they  were  about  going  in  to  dinner ;  "  but 
I  could  not  avoid  inviting  her.  After  all,  she  may  per- 
haps amuse  the  younger  members  of  our  circle ;  she  is  full 
of  wit,  but  not  as  refined  as  I  think  a  woman  should  be." 

Helen  and  Luura,  who  sat  at  table  on  either  side  of  the 
viscount,  were  very  much  entertained  by  the  many  eccen- 
tricities of  the  Parisian  lionne,  for  Madame  de  Lorville 
was  entitled  to  that  distinction. 

The  dinner  was  served  in  excellent  style — every  delicacy 
had  been  provided ;  and  the  servants  in  attendance  were  so 
well  trained,  that,  notwithstanding  the  elaborate  routine  of 
French  entertainments,  not  more  than  two  hours  were  spent 
at  table. 

The  conversation  was  very  intellectual.  Madame  de 
Mornay,  with  tact  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  had  as- 

22* 


256  HELEN  LEESON: 

signed  to  her  guests  such  seats  as  would  place  them  in 
contact  with  congenial  persons.  Thus,  Robert  was  com- 
pletely fascinated  by  Mademoiselle  Isaure  de  Cerny,  and 
Aunt  Seraph  felt  quite  at  home  with  Madame  Dorival  as  a 
neighbour.  The  others  knew  each  other  sufficiently  well 
to  trust  to  chance  or  to  their  own  resources. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  company  had  left  the  dining-room, 
and  the  coffee  having  been  served,  the  carriage  was  an- 
nounced. 

"  The  cars  wait  for  no  one,  unfortunately,"  said  the 
amiable  hostess,  as  she  parted  with  her  friends.  "Now 
that  you  are  acquainted  with  us  all,  do  come  soon  again. 
Can  you  not  spend  a  few  days  with  me  ?" 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  replied  Miss  Marsy ;  "  our  time  is 
limited.  In  two  weeks  we  leave  for  SAvitzerland,  and  I 
would  like  to  reach  Naples  before  September." 

"  Well,  I  shall  claim  you  on  your  return,  and  I  hope  to 
see  you  soon  in  Paris."  So  saying,  Madame  de  Mornay 
offered  her  arm  to  Helen,  to  escort  her  to  the  carriage. 

"Pray,  tell  me,  Miss  Leeson,"  she  added,  "whether 
Mrs.  Murray  had  heard  from  Mr.  Grey  before  you  left  ? 
We  saw  him  several  times,  and  thought  very  highly  of  him ; 
but  my  son  read  the  announcement  of  his  death  in  the 
newspaper  a  few  months  ago.  Where  did  he  die?" 

"  At  Rome,  I  believe,"  said  Helen,  with  a  faltering 
voice. 

"  Poor  young  man  !  how  sad  !  Good-evening,  ladies, 
My  son  will  take  excellent  care  of  you." 

It  was  a  fine  moonlight  night,  and  as  the  visitors  caught 
a  last  glimpse  of  the  old  castle,  all  expressed  their  admira- 
tion of  its  antique  beauties. 

Its  towers  and  peaked  turrets  darting  through  the  cloud- 
less sky ;  the  clusters  of  noble  trees,  which  for  centuries 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  2u7 

had  stoud  the  silent  witnesses  of  passing  events ;  the  many 
lights  which  shone  from  the  Gothic  windows,  animating  the 
dark  mass  of  stone, — all  gave  it  a  peculiar,  fairy-like  ap- 
pearance, which  was  most  striking  to  those  whose  native 
land  boasted  no  monuments  of  the  past. 

The  trip  to  Paris  was  agreeable  to  all  except  Helen, 
who  had  not  recovered  from  the  emotion  caused  by  Madame 
de  Mornay's  mention  of  Walter. 

Little  Arthur,  whom  we  had  quite  forgotten  in  the  de- 
scription of  the  day's  pleasures,  but  who  had  taken  an 
active  part  in  them,  slept  soundly  on  Nina's  lap ;  while 
Laura,  Robert,  and  even  Miss  Marsy,  were  in  excellent 
spirits,  and  kept  up  a  most  animated  conversation  with 
Gustave  de  Mornay. 

The  young  Frenchman  entertained  them  with  many  lively 
anecdotes  about  Madame  de  Lorville  and  her  old  husband, 
and  mentioned  other  neighbours,  whose  peculiarities  were 
described  by  him  with  graphic  wit. 

"  But  you  do  not  tell  us  any  thing  about  Madame  de 
Cerny  and  her  pretty  daughters,"  said  Laura. 

"  Oh  !  Mademoiselle  Isaure  is  worldly  and  highly  accom- 
plished ;  but  Blanche  is  an  angel — so  kind  and  charitable, 
so  devoted  to  the  sufferers  of  this  world !  She  is  called  by 
the  villagers,  around  here,  the  '  Lily  of  the  Valley.'  You 
know  she  is  remarkably  fair." 

"  You  possess  excellent  descriptive  powers,  M.  de  Mor- 
nay, said  Helen,  who  had  been  roused  by  the  poetical 
name  the  young  man  had  given  Blanche  de  Cerny. 

"  They  would  be  ineffectual  to  convey  a  correct  idea  of 
the  beauty  of  >some  of  nature's  works,"  added  the  viscount, 
with  a  peculiar  intonation. 

u  Well,  I  have  seldom  seen  a  sweeter  face  than  that  of 
Miss  Blanche,"  said  Robert;  "and  her  manners  are  ex- 


258  HELEN  LEESON: 

quisite ;  although,  I  must  say,  there  is  something  perfectly 
irresistible  in  her  sister's  fine  eye." 

The  conversation  Continued  until  the  travellers  had 
reached  their  hotel.  M.  de  Mornay  promised  to  escort  the 
ladies  to  Versailles  and  Fontainebleau.  In  fact,  it  was  evi- 
dent that  he  was  charmed  with  one  of  the  cousins,  and 
sought  every  opportunity  of  being  in  their  company. 


A    PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  259 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

"ANOTHER  dinner-party!"  exclaimed  Miss  Marsy,  two 
or  three  days  after  her  visit  to  the  Chateau  de  Valpres. 
"Now,  girls,  I  cannot  stand  all  this  dissipation.  You 
made  me  spend  last  evening  at  Mme.  de  Cerny's,  who  came 
in  from  the  country  on  purpose  to  receive  us,  this  warm 
weather :  it  was  too  bad  !  and  we  must  be  off  again  to  Ville 
d'Avray,  to  see  Mrs.  Dallas.  I  can't  go !" 

"  Now,  now,  aunty  dear,  be  calm,  and  let  us  reason  with 
you,"  said  Laura.  "Have  you  not  been  compelled  to 
acknowledge  that  our  visits  to  Madame  de  Mornay  and 
Madame  de  Cerny  were  most  agreeable  ?  Have  you  not 
confessed  to  me — very  reluctantly,  perhaps — that  your 
opinion  of  French  women  was  totally  different  now  from 
the  sad,  near-sighted  one  you  brought  with  you ;  that  many 
possessed  every  quality  which  one  can  desire  in  a  friend ; 
that  they  have  proper  and  refined  feelings  on  all  sub- 
jects? This  you  are  now  convinced  of;  therefore,  allow 
me  still  to  be  your  guide,  and  do  not  deprive  yourself, 
willingly,  of  spending  another  pleasant  day  with  Mrs. 
Dallas,  whom  we  knew  at  home,  and  who  is  one  of  the 
brightest  specimens  of  our  countrywomen." 

"  Well,  well,  I  will  go.  But,  Laura,  while  we  are  alone, 
tell  me  what  you  think  of  M.  de  Mornay.  He  seems  des- 
perately in  love  with  one  of  you  girls,  but  I  cannot  find  out 
which,"  added  Aunt  Seraph. 


260  HELEN  LEESON: 

"Why,  it  is  just  as  evident  as  possible,"  said  the  young 
countess ;  "  and  I  am  delighted,  for  I  think  he  will  make  a 
capital  husband." 

"  But,"  interrogated  Miss  Marsy,  a  little  annoyed,  "  that 
does  not  tell  me  who  he  is  courting." 

"Not  me,  dearest,"  replied  Laura,  smiling. - 

"  Very  well.     Does  she  fancy  him  ?" 

"  Helen  will  not  be  won  easily,"  said  Laura.  "  She 
thinks  very  highly  of  Gustave ;  but  there  is  little  love  for 
him,  I  fear,  in  her  heart." 

"I  don't  know  much,  about  it,"  continued  Miss  Marsy, 
"  but  I  should  think  any  one  could  fancy  that  noble  fellow. 
He  and  his  mother  have  quite  captivated  me." 

"  I  told  you  so !"  said  the  countess,  with  an  arch  look  ; 
"  now,  pray,  be  ready  for  three  o'clock.  Ville  d'Avray  is 
very  near  Paris ;  we  will  drive  out  in  an  hour,  and  return 
by  moonlight.  By-the-by,  Olivia  and  her  husband  are  to 
be  there,  and  several  Americans." 

As  Laura  had  said,  Mrs.  Dallas  was  a  charming 
woman — a  genuine  lady  in  feelings  and  manners.  She 
held  a  high  social  position  in  the  American  circle,  and 
by  her  amiability  she  had  acquired  the  rare  advantage 
of  being  admired,  and  not  envied,  by  her  large  circle  of 
frierids. 

During  the  summer  months,  Mrs.  Dallas  occupied  a 
country-seat  at  Ville  d'Avray,  one  of  the  villages  which 
surround  Paris.  It  was  a  lovely  spot,  with  a  fine  garden 
and  park,  all  on  a  small  scale,  but  laid  out  with  taste,  and 
that  peculiar  genius  with  which  the  French  concentrate  so 
many  beauties  in  a  limited  space. 

When  our  party  arrived  at  Mrs.  Dallas's  little  chateau, 
they  were  greeted  by  the  hostess  with  a  truly  American 
welcome.  It  was  a  sweet  reminiscence  of  home  to  hear 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        261 

pure  English,  and  to  talk  over  various  topics  which  they 
had  not  heard  of  since  they  left  New  York. 

"We  have  seen  more  of  French  society  than  of  our  coun- 
trymen," said  Miss  Marsy,  in  answer  to  some  inquiries  made 
by  Mrs.  Dallas  regarding  their  stay  in  Paris.  "  I  like  them 
exceedingly,  but  still  I  cannot  feel  at  home  with  them." 

"  Of  course  not ;  we  always  sympathize  more  readily 
with  those  we  know  and  understand  thoroughly.  Don't 
you  think  so,  countess?" 

"  Well,  I  have  found  it  an  easy  task  to  appreciate  and 
to  become  acquainted  with  those  whom  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  here ;  and,  generally  speaking,  I  think 
the  society  of  the  country  you  visit  is  better  than  that  of 
the  foreigners  who  have  settled  in  it.  Present  company 
excepted,  of  course,"  added  Laura,  laughing. 

We  should  add,  in  extenuation  of  this  rather  strange 
remark,  that  Laura  knew  Mrs.  Dallas  very  well,  and  was 
certain  that  she  would  not  mistake  her  meaning. 

"  You  may  be  right,"  said  the  lady.  "  I  have  sometimes 
thought  so  myself;  but  it  is  difficult  to  see  both  French 
and  Americans,  except  in  a  formal  manner.  Ah !  Mr. 
Harris  !  good-morning,"  she  added,  addressing  a  gentleman 
who  was  just  entering  the  parlour.  "  Let  me  introduce 
you  to  Miss  Marsy,  the  Countess  Marini,  Miss  Leeson." 

The  stranger  bowed  in  a  very  stiff  and  precise  manner 
to  each  lady  as  her  name  was  mentioned,  and  said — 

"  Parole  d'honneur,  Mrs.  Dallas,  it  takes  a  great  leal  of 
devotion  to  risk  one's  hair  and  whiskers  to  drive  out  here, 
on  these  dusty  roads." 

"  I  am  aware  of  the  difficulties  you  had  to  encounter. 
But  as  these  ladies,  in  their  lace  bonnets  and  lawn  dresses, 
have  accomplished  the  feat,  a  knight  of  your  renowned 
gallantry  should  not  complain." 


262  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Oh !  ladies  have  a  thousand  charms  wherewith  to 
obliterate  such  disasters,  but  we  poor,  forlorn  portion  of 
humanity  have  no  such  resources.  And  where  is  your 
dandy  brother,  Miss  Leeson  ?  I  expected  to  meet  him  here 
to-day." 

"  Robert  will  drive  out  later,  with  Mr.  Lawrence." 

"  He  is  monstrously  fond  of  Paris ;  in  fact,  who  is  not :'"' 
added  the  antiquated  beau,  glancing  at  his  own  artificial 
self  in  a  mirror.  "  The  lovers  of  the  beautiful  cannot  live 
elsewhere." 

"New  York  possesses  almost  as  many  advantages  as 
Paris  now,"  said  Mrs.  Dallas;  "I  was  quite  struck  with 
the  improvements  during  my  last  visit  there." 

"  Oh  !  don't  mention  it,  dear  madam  ;  no  city  can  com- 
pete with  this  great  capital  for  the  thousand  little  indescri- 
bable enjoyments  which  tempt  you  at  every  step.  One 
actually  inhales  pleasure." 

"But  you  will  admit,  sir,"  said  Laura,  "that,  as  far  as 
home  happiness  and  comforts  go,  no  country  can  better 
afford  them  than  our  own  beloved  native  land." 

"  I  admire  those  noble  sentiments  ;  but,  having  no  family, 
America,  to  me,  is  uninteresting  and  unsatisfactory." 

"  Here  is  a  lady  who  is,  I  fear,  too  much  of  your  opinion," 
added  Mrs.  Dallas,  as  she  left  the  room  to  receive  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Dobbins,  who  were  alighting  from  their  elegant 
equipage. 

"Ah !  Mrs.  Dobbins,  you  have  come  just  in  time  to  lend 
me  your  powerful  eloquence  against  these  fair  antagonists, 
who  will  not  admit  that  Paris  is  the  finest  city  in  the 
world,"  said  the  old  beau. 

"Mr.  Harris,"  interrupted  the  hostess,  "allow  me  to 
remark  that,  as  a  quondam  lawyer,  you  have  entirely  mis- 
understood our  meaning.  These  ladies  and  I  are  profound 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        263 

admirers  of  Paris,  but  merely  claim  for  America  what  we 
believe  to  be  her  due." 

"  Oh !  ladies  are  always  right,"  answered  the  gentle- 
man ;  "  but  I  know  you  think  as  I  do,  Mrs.  Dobbins." 

"  Of  course ;  there  is  no  place  like  Paris,  where  one 
can  really  enjoy  life  and  be  perfectly  independent.  I 
have  been  trying  to  prove  this  to  Mr.  Dobbins  ever  since 
our  arrival." 

"You  have  quite  convinced  me,  my  dear,"  said  the  hus- 
band. "  Why,  Robert,  did  you  walk  out  here  ?"  continued 
the  kind  fellow  to  young  Leeson,  who  came  in  with  Mr. 
Lawrence.  "  If  I  had  only  known  it,  I  would  have  offered 
you  a  seat  in  our  carriage." 

"  Don't  feel  at  all  concerned  about  us,  my  dear  friend," 
answered  the  young  man.  "Frank  suggested  that  we 
should  take  the  cars  to  avoid  the  dust,  and  we  did  so." 

"Why  had  I  not  that  bright  idea?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Harris,  striking  his  forehead,  and  brushing  off  the  dust 
from  his  coat ;  after  which  he  took  a  seat  near  Helen, 
and  attempted  to  entertain  the  silent  beauty,  as  he  after- 
ward styled  her.  But  it  was  a  difficult  task  to  rouse 
that  drooping  spirit,  and  it  took  no  less  than  the  ridiculous 
pretensions  of  the  would-be  young  gallant  to  elicit  a  smile 
from  our  heroine. 

"By  Jove!  who  is  this  fine  lady?"  he  exclaimed,  as 
he  turned  to  the  window,  attracted  by  the  sound  of  a 
carriage. 

Helen's  glance  followed  the  same  direction,  and  she 
started  as  she  recognised  Sir  Archibald  Courtnay  and  the 
smiling  Cora,  radiant  with  the  consciousness  of  her  newly- 
acquired  title. 

"  Sir  Archibald  and  Lady  Courtnay,"  said  the  servant 
in  livery,  as  he  opened  the  door  of  the  drawing-room. 

23 


264  HELEN  LEESON: 

Mrs.  Dallas  rose  to  receive  her  guests,  who  came  in 
perfectly  unprepared  to  meet  so  many  of  their  New  York 
friends.  There  was  a  slight  diminution  of  pride  and  arro- 
gance in  their  manner  as  they  recognised  their  former 
acquaintances.  Cora  was  too  cunning  not  to  avoid  any 
thing  approaching  ridicule :  she  therefore  met  the  assem- 
bled party  in  a  gracious  and  unassuming  manner. 

Sir  Archibald  bowed  to  all,  but  a  quiver  of  the  lip  was 
distinctly  perceptible  when  he  advanced  toward  Helen  and 
shook  hands  with  her.  The  young  girl  returned  his  greet- 
ing in  a  friendly  manner,  but  could  not  control  a  slight 
tremulousness,  as  she  replied  to  his  inquiries  about  her 
health,  etc.  All  this  was  not  lost  on  Lady  Courtnay,  who, 
since  her  marriage,  had  had  occasion  to  notice  that,  if  she 
possessed  Sir  Archibald's  title,  he  had  never  given  her  his 
heart.  He  had  one,  no  doubt ;  where,  then,  was  it  ?  She 
now  had  solved  the  mystery.  And  why,  then,  had  Helen 
rejected  the  young  man  ? 

While  all  these  conjectures  filled  her  mind,  the  lady  of 
fashion — well  skilled  in  the  art  of  using  language  to  conceal 
her  thoughts — appeared  entirely  engrossed  by  the  com- 
pany, and  was  loquacious  on  the  beauties  of  Paris  and  its 
environs. 

Dinner  was  announced,  and  Mrs.  Dallas,  who  was  not 
possessed  of  a  supernatural  clairvoyance,  requested  Sir 
Archibald  to  sit  near  Miss  Leeson. 

Cora's  first  thought  was  to  object  to  her  husband  being 
so  ver^  near  the  door  ;  but  reflecting  that  many  present, 
who  had  known  the  secret  of  his  former  devotion  to  Helen, 
might  discover  her  real  motive,  she  took  the  seat  which  the 
hostess  had  assigned  to  her  between  Mr.  Lawrence  and 
Mr.  Dallas,  who,  by-the-by,  reached  his  home  as  the  com- 
pany were  entering  the  dining-room.  He  was  one  of  those 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         265 

thorough  business  men  who  live  in  their  counting-houses, 
and  breathe  but  for  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  much  to  the 
annoyance  of  his  refined  and  amiable  wife.  Mr.  Dallas, 
in  other  respects,  was  a  kind,  devoted  husband  ;  but  he 
owed  a  portion  of  his  time  and  society  to  the  gentle  being 
whom  he  had  promised  to  love,  protect,  and  make  happy. 
These  last  words  are  not  inserted  in  the  marriage  cere- 
mony, nor  are  they  always  sufficiently  understood  ;  and 
many  evils  arise  from  the  entire  neglect  in  which  some  very 
respectable,  no  doubt,  but  very  forgetful,  husbands  leave 
their  wives.  Excess !  excess !  Again  we  say,  there  lies 
the  error  ! 

In  Paris,  one  is  always  sure  of  having  a  good  dinner. 
The  servants  are  generally  excellent,  and  nothing  ever 
occurs  to  disturb  the  usual  course  of  the  entertainment. 
This  was  the  case  at  Mrs.  Dallas's.  There  was  none  of  the 
elegance  and  profusion  displayed  in  Madame  de  Mornay'a 
establishment,  but  every  thing  in  good  style ;  and  to  most 
of  the  guests  the  dinner  was  very  agreeable. 

Helen  gradually  recovered  from  the  painful  feeling  which 
she  had  experienced  at  meeting  the  young  nobleman,  and 
she  was  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  proving  to  him  that  her 
assurances  of  sincere  friendship  were  not  an  empty  com- 
pliment. 

Miss  Marsy  found  Mr.  Dallas  a  most  unceremonious  and 
congenial  neighbour.  In  fact,  Aunt  Seraph,  who  in  New 
York  would  have  shunned  the  contact  of  the  fashionable 
party,  now  felt  quite  at  her  ease  with  them.  They  all 
spoke  English ;  and  that  sounded  so  much  more  like  home 
than  the  incomprehensible  graciousness  of  her  French 
acquaintances. 

Laura  really  enjoyed  the  ridiculous  airs  of  our  friend 
Tom,  who,  quite  elated  by  the  prospect  of  an  hour's  con- 


266  HELEN  LEESON: 

fab  with  the  beautiful  countess,  displayed  all  his  powers  of 
elocution  to  captivate  her.  They  were  by  far  the  gayest 
of  the  party  ;  and  twice  Robert,  who,  perchance,  sat  oppo- 
site to  his  cousin,  whispered  to  Dobbins,  "  How  can  she  be 
amused  by  that  old  fool  ?" 

"  He  is  very  droll,"  answered  good  friend  Dob,  as  he 
cast  an  anxious  glance  at  Frank  Lawrence,  who  was  carry- 
ing on  a  slight  flirtation  with  Olivia. 

As  the  party  rose  from  table,  Mrs.  Dallas  proposed  a 
stroll  in  the  park ;  and  as  each  lady  took  the  arm  of  the 
gentleman  who  sat  near  her,  Sir  Archibald  very  naturally 
offered  his  to  Helen,  much  to  her  regret;  for  she  had 
detected  the  uneasiness  which  Lady  Courtnay's  manner 
evinced. 

"  I  cannot  walk  far,  for  I  have  a  pain  in  my  foot,"  said 
the  young  girl. 

"  Only  a  short  distance,"  answered  Mrs.  Dallas.  "  The 
country  is  so  sweet  at  this  hour  !" 

And  the  party  were  soon  engaged  ancid  the  winding 
walks  of  the  surrounding  grounds. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  me,  Miss  Leeson,  when  you 
heard  of  my  marriage  ?"  whispered  the  nobleman,  as  he 
lingered  behind  the  company. 

"  I  have  always  thought  very  highly  of  you,  Sir  Archi- 
bald," she  replied,  attempting  to  walk  faster. 

"  Oh,  Helen,  do  not  deprive  me  of  this  single  moment 
of  happiness — the  only  one  I  have  had  for  many  months  ! 
Oh  !  when  I  said  you  were  my  only  love,  alas  !  how  true  it 
was  !  And  now  I  am  miserable  !" 

"Sir  Archibald,"  exclaimed  the  agitated  girl,  "speak 
not  thus.  Cora  loves  you,  she  is  worthy  of  you,  and  many 
blessings  may  be  yours." 

"  No,  never !   That  woman  has  no  heart :  she  values  my 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YOKE  SOCIETY.         267 

title,  the  rank  I  have  placed  her  in ;  but  she  cares  not  for 
me." 

"A  virtuous  wife  will  always  become  attached  to  her 
husband ;  and,  though  Cora  may  be  carried  away,  just  now, 
by  the  brilliancy  of  her  social  position, "she  is,  I  am  sure, 
devoted  to  you,"  said  Helen. 

"  No,  no  !  you  do  not  know  her.  Your  pure  mind  can- 
not discover  the  workings  of  those  ambitious  hearts  wL, 
trample  oh  all  sacred  principles  to  reach  their  aim.  Why, 
why  did  you  refuse  to  be  mine  ?"  added  the  young  man,  as 
he  pressed  Helen's  cold  hand  to  his  lips. 

Distressed  and  much  annoyed,  she  walked  on  as  fast  as 
possible,  gently  whispering — "  Sir  Archibald,  for  my  sake, 
and  for  yours,  this  cannot  be.  Do  let  us  join  the  rest  of 
our  party !" 

"Yes,  yes;  but  pray  for  me,  Helen,  that  God  may  have 
mercy  .on  me,  and  forgive  my  error  in  bartering  my  hap- 
piness for  a  bit  of  gold." 

Fortunately  for  this  ill-timed  declaration  on  the  part  of 
the  young  Englishman,  Laura — who  had  noticed  the  disap- 
pearance of  her  cousin,  and  conjectured  that  all  might  not 
be  as  it  should  in  her  tete-a-tete  with  her  former  suitor — 
had  retraced  her  steps,  with  her  ludicrous  admirer,  talking 
loud  enough  for  Helen  to  have  warning  of  their  approach. 
And,  when  they  met  the  agitated  couple,  the  young  countess 
exclaimed — 

"  Helen,  I  knew  your  foot  would  pain  you  too  much  for 
a  long  walk.  I  came  back  to  return  with  you  to  the 
house." 

How  thankful  the  young  girl  felt  for  the  judicious  inter- 
ference of  her  sensible  cousin  ! 

The  four  walked  toward  the  little  chateau,  and  when  the 
jealous  wife  and  the  rest  of  the  company  entered  the  draw- 

23* 


268  HELEN  LEESON: 

ing-room,  Laura  was,  apparently,  engaged  in  earnest  con- 
versation with  the  guilty  Sir  Archibald,  while  Helen  seemed 
to  take  great  interest  in  the  marvellous  account  Mr.  Harris 
gave  of  his  adventures  in  Spain. 

A  short  time  afterward  the  carriages  drove  up,  and  all 
took  leave  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dallas,  with  many  expressions 
of  gratitude  for  their  kind  reception. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        269 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THREE  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the  arrival  of  the  travel- 
lers in  Paris,  and,  notwithstanding  the  unpropitious  season 
which  they  had  selected  for  visiting  the  great  capital,  their 
time  had  been  spent  most  agreeably.  Laura's  health  had 
considerably  improved  ;  Miss  Marsy's  hopes  were  reviving. 
Robert,  reckless  about  the  cares  which  were  racking  his 
family  at  home,  enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  Paris  with  all  the 
buoyancy  of  youth  and  of  his  careless  disposition.  Helen 
was  the  only  one  in  whom  no  change  for  the  better  was 
apparent.  She  felt  great  concern  about  the  state  of  her 
father's  health  and  business.  The  parting  words  of  the 
unhappy  man  often  returned  with  vivid  bitterness  to  her 
memory,  and  her  own  silent,  harrowing  sorrow  was  wear- 
ing every  fibre  of  that  young  heart.  Oar  physical  being  is 
so  closely  connected  with  that  immortal  spirit  which  God's 
bountiful  goodness  has  granted  to  the  morsel  of  clay,  that 
no  pang  affecting  the  one  can  be  unfelt  by  the  other ;  the 
sting  which  pierces  the  heart  will  soon  do  its  work  of  de- 
struction on  the  devoted  body.  Thus  it  was  with  Helen. 
The  natural  transparency  of  her  complexion  had  gone, 
and  a  marble-like  paleness  had  settled  on  those  beautiful 
features,  giving  them,  when  at  rest,  the  appearance  of 
a  statue.  Aunt  Seraph's  affectionate  solicitude  was  warm 
in  its  endeavours  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  fright- 
ful change ;  and  the  kind  friend  in  vain  attempted  by 
diversion  and  words  of  comfort  to  bring  a  smile  upon  the 


270  HELEN    LEESON: 

loved  countenance.  Laura,  aware  of  the  cause  of  Helen's 
suffering,  was  ingenious  in  her  efforts  to  procure  relief,  but 
not  with  much  success.  She  was  convinced  that  if  Gustave 
de  Mornay  could  possibly  interest  the  young  girl  sufficient- 
ly to  obliterate,  even  slightly,  the  memory  of  her  short  and 
mysterious  attachment  to  Walter,  a  great  point  would  be 
gained.  But  how  could  that  be  accomplished  ?  Notwith- 
standing the  evident  admiration  of  the  viscount,  Helen 
had  never  appeared  to  notice  it,  and  neither  by  word  or 
look  had  she  evinced  the  slightest  vanity  at  the  conquest. 
It  is  too  soon,  thought  Laura ;  when  we  return  from  Italy,  I 
will  manage  it.  She  could  not  have  loved  Walter  under 
those  extraordinary  circumstances  so  passionately  that  all 
access  to  her  sensitive  heart  could  have  been  closed  by  his 
death.  Oh !  if  she  had  known  him  and  idolized  him  as  I 
did  my  Arthur ! 

Strange  as  it  may  appear,  Helen's  devotion  to  the  only 
dream  of  love  which  had  dawned  upon  her  young  existence 
•was  as  engrossing,  as  absorbing,  as  any  earthly  affection 
could  possibly  be.  There  is  in  every  woman's  bosom  a 
sacred  flame,  which,  when  kindled  for  the  first  time  by  the 
heavenly  spark,  sends  forth  a  ray  of  joy  which  beams  glo- 
riously upon  the  pure  spirit ;  and  that  early  impression  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  powerful,  the  most  ineffaceable,  which 
our  versatile  nature  is  susceptible  of.  It  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at,  therefore,  that,  when  deprived  of  that  brilliant 
light,  poor  Helen's  fate  was  clouded  in  darkness. 

How  true,  that  trouble  never  comes  alone !  We  might 
murmur  at  the  harshness  of  the  decree,  were  not  the  same 
words  applicable  to  the  blessings  of  Providence.  How 
essential,  then,  the  practice  of  that  holy  virtue — patience — 
which  won  immortal  glory  for  the  afflicted  Job,  and  which, 
long  after,  when  the  wisdom  of  God's  chosen  people  had 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         271 

decayed  and  disappeared  beneath  the  cloud  of  evil  example, 
the  Divine  preceptor  came  to  teach  his  erring  children. 
He  bore  with  meekness  the  repeated  blows  of  adversity, 
that  we  might  learn  the  salutary  lesson  of  resignation  and 
submission  to  the  ever-wise  and  merciful  will. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Robert?"  exclaimed  Miss  Marsy, 
as  the  young  man  one  morning  entered  her  dressing-room, 
where  she  sat  reading  with  Helen  and  Laura.  He  held 
an  open  letter,  and  his  countenance  expressed  so  much 
anguish,  that  Aunt  Seraph  was  seriously  alarmed. 

"  Oh !  this  steamer  has  brought  us  awful  news  !"  he  re- 
plied, as  he  threw  himself  on  a  chair,  and  buried  his  face 
in  his  hands. 

Miss  Marsy  picked  up  the  letter,  which  had  fallen  at  her 
feet,  and  having  hastily  perused  it,  she  said — "  It  is  not  as 
bad  as  I  feared.  We  are  all  partially  prepared  for  this. 
Helen,"  added  the  kind  friend,  with  emotion,  "this  is 
from  Herman,  announcing  your  father's  failure.  He 
says  they  did  all  that  could  be  done  to  avoid  it,  but  in 
vain ;  and  for  the  sake  of  keeping  up  appearances,  matters 
have  been  made  much  worse.  Unfortunately,  Mr.  Leeson's 
delicate  health  will  scarcely  enable  him  to  bear  the  blow. 
He  had  been  very  ill,  but  was  better  when  Herman 
wrote.  This  failure  will,  I  fear,  involve  the  whole  of 
your  father's  property ;  but  your  mother's  fortune  is 
secure,  I  believe,  and  mine,  you  know,  dear  child,  is  hers 
and  yours." 

The  unhappy  girl  rested  her  head  on  Aunt  Seraph's 
bosom,  and  sobbed  violently,  while  Laura,  with  words  cf 
love  and  comfort,  tried  to  soothe  her.  Helen  thought  not 
an  instant  of  herself  in  this  dreadful  calamity ;  but  the 
image  of  her  wretched  father,  her  sainted  mother,  and  poor 
little  patient  Anna,  filled  her  mind  with  agonizing  sorrow 


272  HELEN  LEESON: 

But  her  grief  was  like  herself — silent  and  calm.  Not 
so  the  violent  despair  which  had  taken  possession  of 
Robert. 

The  young  man  had  always  thought  his  fate  beyond  the 
reach  of  such  reverses.  The  possibility  of  an  appalling 
change  in  his  father's  position  had  never  occurred  to  him  ; 
and  although  Herman  Smith  had  frequently  warned  the 
wild  boy  against  indulging  in  excesses  which  would  unfit 
him  for  the  sacred  duties  he  might  be  called  upon  to  fulfil 
later  in  life,  Robert  had  laughed  at  the  reproof,  as,  in  days 
of  yore,  he  had  scorned  the  salutary  advice  of  Aunt  Se- 
raph ;  and  now,  that  the  terrific  reality  burst  upon  his 
unprepared  mind,  the  effect  was  crushing. 

"  We  shall  be  beggars — disgraced — ruined  !  a  laughing- 
stock for  all  New  York!  Oh!  bitter,  bitter  fate!"  ex- 
claimed the  young  man,  as  he  paced  the  room. 

"  Robert !  Robert !  be  calm,  and  do  not  give  up  in  this 
aninanly  manner !"  said  Aunt  Seraph,  affectionately. 

"  Not  give  up  when  all  is  lost- — when  we  are  reduced  to 
poverty  !  For  who  knows  whether  my  mother's  property  is 
not  gone  with  the  rest  in  that  gulf  of  extravagance  in 
which  father's  pride  has  precipitated  us  all  ?" 

"  Oh,  brother,"  exclaimed  Helen,  as  she  clasped  the 
young  man's  arm,  and  compelled  him  to  sit  near  her,  "  can 
you — who  have  so  much  to  reproach  yourself  with,  so  much 
to  answer  for — can  you  blame  our  father's  conduct  ?  What- 
ever his  errors  may  have  been,  we,  his  children,  have  no 
right  to  condemn  his  actions.  A  higher  power  will  call  us 
all  to  account  when  the  solemn  moment  of  retribution  has 
come.  Let  us  think  of  our  own  sins,  and  be  merciful,  that 
we  may  be  judged  in  mercy.  You  are  young,  Robert — 
intelligent.  Our  country  affords  elements  of  success  which 
all  can  grasp ;  the  will  alone  is  required.  Pray,  dear 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        273 

brother,  that  Providence  may  grant  you  that  efficient  will, 
which,  with  his  grace,  accomplishes  all  things !" 

"Oh  !  it  is  easy  for  you  to  talk  thus,  Elly!"  said  the 
young  man,  as  the  tears  fell  fast,  and  the  stern  violence  of 
his  passions  was  gradually  giving  way  to  a  meeker  sorrow. 
<;  Yes,  it  is  easy  ;  for  you  are  good  and  pure.  God  loves 
you,  and  Laura,  and  Aunt  Seraph,  as  his  angels;  but  he 
spurns  such  sinners  as  I  am — he  drives  them  from  him !" 

"  God  is  an  indulgent  father,  my  dear  boy,"  said 
Miss  Marsy — "  a  forgiving  parent ;  he  will  look  down  in 
kindness  on  your  trials,  which  may  prove  an  inestimable 
blessing." 

"  Now,  my  children,"  said  Laura,  smiling,  "  I  entirely 
disapprove  of  giving  up  to  grief  when  so  much  is  left  to 
us.  With  friends,  whose  means  are  still  considerable, 
there  is  little  to  fear  as  regards  pecuniary  troubles." 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  for  me  to  return  to  America, 
aunt  ?"  said  Robert ;  "  I  think  it  is  my  duty." 

"  We  will  talk  that  over,"  answered  Miss  Marsy.  "  In 
a  few  days  we  can  make  up  our  minds  on  the  subject.  Ah  ! 
here  is  my  Arty ;  what  have  you  there  ?  A  note  for  you, 
Elly?" 

"Only  a  few  lines  from  Blanche  de  Cerny,"  replied 
Helen,  "  reminding  Laura  and  myself  of  the  wish  we  ex- 
pressed to  visit  the  Creche,  or  nursery  for  little  children. 
She,  it  appears,  superintends  one  of  them,  and,  in  fact, 
devotes  all  her  time  to  charitable  pursuits.  But  I  cannot 
go  out  to-day  ;  it  is  quite  impossible." 

"  Why  so  ?"  said  Laura.  "  I  can  understand  that  you 
should  not  be  willing  to  visit  or  go  to  any  public  place ;  but 
on  such  a  mission  as  this  ?  It  seems  as  though  Providence 
had  thrown  this  opportunity  in  our  path,  that,  by  seeing 
the  sufferings  of  our  fellow-beings,  we  should  learn  to  b* 


274  HELEN  LEESON: 

thankful  for  his  bounty  to  us,  who  are  so  much  mor« 
favoured." 

"Laura  is  right,  darling,"  added  Miss  Marsy.  "I  ad- 
vise you  both  to  go ;  and  Blanche  de  Cerny  is  so  sweet, 
her  society  will  divert  you  in  a  soothing  and  pleasant 
manner." 

Helen  felt  the  truth  of  these  remarks,  and  accordingly 
prepared  to  accompany  Laura  and  Mademoiselle  de  Cerny 
on  their  interesting  visit. 

Robert  was  less  accessible  to  persuasion,  and  for  several 
hours  remained  absorbed  in  sullen  discontent. 

However,  finding  that  he  was  left  alone  to  brood  over  his 
trouble,  (Aunt  Seraph  having  gone  to  the  Tuilleries  with 
little  Arthur  and  his  nurse,)  and  not  being  adequate  to  the 
difficult  task  of  reasoning  with  his  own  rebellious  self,  the 
young  man  went  out  for  a  stroll  on  the  Boulevards ;  and 
meeting  with  his  friend  Frank  Lawrence,  he  allowed  him- 
self to  be  carried  off  to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  There  his 
thoughts  were  soon  led  into  a  channel  far  different  from 
the  gloomy  one  in  which  they  had  wandered  in  distracted 
agony  but  a  few  hours  before. 

The  beneficial  lesson  of  adversity  was  still  unlearned  ! 

As  Laura  had  supposed,  their  visit  to  the  nursery  waa 
most  gratifying  to  their  charitable  feelings.  So  many  little 
ones  were  thus  provided  with  a  safe  harbour  while  deprived 
of  maternal  care,  and  so  much  order  and  cleanliness 
reigned  in  the  establishment,  that  it  was  evident  the  eye 
of  experience  and  judicious  kindness  was  ever  watchful 
over  the  infant  tribe.  After  leaving  the  nursery,  Mademoi- 
selle de  Cerny  proposed  to  Helen  and  Laura  that  they 
should  visit  a  young  flower-maker  in  whom  she  took  great 
interest,  and  whose  history  was  a  heart-rending  one.  She 
had  lost  both  parents  in  the  course  of  a  few  months,  and, 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         275 

being  called  upon  to  support  six  brothers  and  sisters,  the 
heroic  child,  who  was  but  twelve  years  old,  had  undertaken 
the  arduous  and  almost  impossible  task,  thanks  to  Miss 
Blanche's  kind  interference  !  Mademoiselle  de  Cerny  had, 
in  her  leisure  hours,  acquired  quite  a  proficiency  in  making 
artificial  flowers,  and  she  attempted  to  teach  Pauline  Ber- 
ton  that  beautiful  art,  meanwhile  spending  all  her  small 
income  to  provide  for  the  poor  orphans.  These  details  our 
ladies  had  heard  from  Madame  de  Mornay,  and  at  the 
time  had  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  see  Pauline  at  her 
own  establishment. 

"Good-morning,  chere  enfant,"  said  Mademoiselle  de 
Cerny,  as  she  entered  the  work-room  with  her  American 
friends.  "  I  have  brought  these  ladies  to  see  you ;  have 
you  any  thing  pretty  to  show  us,  Pauline  \" 

"  Oh,  yes,  mademoiselle — these  variegated  pinks,  which 
you  began  for  me." 

It  was  astonishing  to  see  with  what  intelligence  and 
alacrity  the  little  French  girl  moved  about  the  store,  super- 
intending three  or  four  apprentices  who  were  a  head  taller 
than  herself,  but  who  submitted  with  docility  to  the  superior 
knowledge  of  the  juvenile  mistress.  Pauline  had  acquired 
wonderful  skill  in  the  manufacture  of  the  exquisite  imita- 
tions of  Nature's  gems ;  and  through  the  protection  of  her 
kind  instructress,  and  some  of  her  friends,  she  found  a 
ready  sale  for  her  work.  There  was  a  smile  of  happiness 
on  that  young  face,  which  contrasted  strangely  with  tho 
two  deep  wrinkles  which  early  cares  had  traced  on  her  brow. 

"Children  well,  Pauline?"  inquired  Blanche. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  mademoiselle.  Rosalie  and  Marie  are 
at  school,  'the  two  boys  at  work,  and  our  baby  is  asleep. 
We  are  all  very  comfortable,"  added  the  little  woman — for 
she  could  not  be  called  a  child. 

24 


276  HELEN  LEESON: 

Helen  and  Laura  were  so  delighted  with  Pauline,  that 
both  purchased  some  of  her  flowers ;  and  as  they  were  leav- 
ing the  work-room,  Laura  said — "  This  is  for  the  baby ; 
she  must  have  a  nice  warm  dress  for  this  winter,"  and  the 
countess  handed  a  gold-piece  to  the  young  girl,  who  thanked 
her  with  a  look  of  gratitude  which  expressed  more  than 
words  could  have  done. 

This  episode,  trifling  as  it  was,  served  to  divert  Helen's 
mind  from  the  painful  subject  which  had  sorely  afiected 
her  sensitive  heart. 

Aunt  Seraph  was  much  pleased  with  the  account  her 
nieces  gave  of  Pauline,  and  she  concluded  that  it  would  be 
a  great  advantage  to  the  courageous  girl  to  furnish  her  with 
the  means  of  going  to  New  York,  where  she  could  carry  on 
her  trade  in  a  manner  so  much  more  lucrative  than  in 
Paris. 

While  the  ladies  were  still  discussing  the  fate  of  the 
little  flower-maker,  Gustave  de  Mornay  was  announced. 
The  young  man  was  always  a  welcome  visitor.  He 
had  been  so  kind  and  attentive,  that  he  was  considered 
no  longer  a  stranger;  and  on  many  occasions,  even  of 
a  trivial  nature,  his  advice  had  been  asked  by  the 
travelleis. 

"  What  ?  You  do  not  really  leave  Paris  in  a  week,  Miss 
Marsy?"  he  exclaimed,  when  Aunt  Seraph  had  communi- 
cated her  plans  to  him. 

"  Yes ;  I  arranged  all  these  matters  this  morning  at  the 
Tuilleries,  while  I  sat  there  alone.  We  will  pass  a  few 
weeks  in  Switzerland,  and  can,  I  think,  reach  Naples  about 
the  middle  of  September.  After  spending  a  month  there, 
we  shall  return  to  Paris,  to  remain  a  few  days  previous  to 
Bailing  for  America.  Does  this  meet  with  your  approba- 
tion, ladies  ?" 


A   PEEP    AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  277 

"With  mine,  certainly,"  said  Laura,  smiling  at  the 
young  man's  evident  annoyance. 

"  Well,  it  does  not  exactly  suit  me,  my  dear  Miss 
Marsy,"  said  Gustave.  "  I  came  here  this  evening  for  the 
express  purpose  of  prevailing  upon  you  to  leave  this  warm 
city,  and  devote  a  week  to  us  at  Valpres.  Mother  will  be 
sadly  disappointed." 

"  It  would  have  given  us  great  pleasure  to  make  Madame 
de  Mornay  a  visit,"  replied  Aunt  Seraph;  "  but  I  fear  it 
is  quite  impracticable." 

"Why  so?"  said  Laura,  who  was  struck  with  the  pos- 
sibility of  thus  accomplishing  her  favourite  scheme  for 
Helen's  happiness.  "  We  are  not  obliged  to  remain  several 
weeks  in  Switzerland,  and  surely  our  time  will  be  much 
more  agreeably  spent  at  Valpres." 

"  Bravo  !  fair  lady !"  exclaimed  the  young  man ;  then 
turning  to  Helen,  he  added — "  and  will  you  not  lend  me 
your  eloquence,  Miss  Leeson,  to  persuade  your  aunt  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  either  Laura  or  you  require  any  auxiliary, 
Monsieur  de  Mornay." 

"  Now,  aunt,"  continued  the  countess,  "  I  think  we  may 
promise  to  pass  a  few  days  with  this  devoted  friend  of  ours." 

"Laura,  indeed  I — " 

"Do  not  crush  all  my  hopes,  Miss  Marsy,"  said  the 
viscount,  with  an  imploring  look  which  was  quite  irre- 
siftible. 

As  usual,  Aunt  Seraph  gave  up,  and  it  was  agreed  that 
the  ladies  should  spend  the  last  week  of  their  stay  in 
France  at  Valpres.  This  arrangement  suited  Laura  for 
many  reasons :  besides  her  wish  to  create  an  interest  in 
Helen's  heart  for  the  young  nobleman,  she  was  anxious  to 
avoid  her  aunt's  scrutiny  regarding  a  likeness  of  herself 
for  which  she  was  sitting,  and  which  was  to  be  presented 


278  HELEN   LEESON: 

to  Miss  Marsy  on  her  return  to  America.  Helen  and 
Robert  were  in  the  secret,  and  had  declared  that  it  would 
be  perfect. 

Laura  urged  her  cousin  to  have  her  likeness  taken  also, 
at  her  expense;  but  as  the  price  was  very  extravagant, 
Helen  positively  refused,  preferring  to  accept  Aunt  Seraph's 
offer  to  take  singing-lessons  from  a  good  professor.  "I 
may  require  that  knowledge,  one  day,"  she  thought. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        279 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

IT  was  with  evident  reluctance  that  Miss  Marsy  prepared 
to  accompany  her  nieces  to  Valpres ;  but  Laura  easily  con- 
vinced her  of  the  necessity  of  making  a  sacrifice  which 
might  prove  such  a  benefit  to  Helen's  welfare  ;  and  Madame 
de  Mornay  had  been  so  kind,  that  Aunt  Seraph  dared  not 
even  acknowledge  to  herself  how  entirely  she  was  opposed 
to  her  niece's  wishes. 

Helen  appeared  indifferent  on  the  subject,  but  at  heart 
she  regretted  an  arrangement  which  would  thus  place  her 
so  much  in  contact  with  the  young  nobleman,  whose  admi- 
ration she  could  not  help  noticing,  and  to  whom  she  felt 
it  was  impossible  to  give  the  slightest  encouragement. 
And,  as  the  anxious  girl  knelt  in  prayer  on  the  night 
previous  to  her  leaving  Paris,  she  begged  the  ever-wise 
Protector  so  to  direct  the  events  of  her  life,  that  she  might 
avoid  giving  pain  to  one  for  whom  she  felt  sincere  respect 
— almost  friendship. 

Mysterious  are  the  ways  of  Providence ! 

The  next  morning  a  large  package  of  letters  was  brought 
in,  and  as  Helen  opened  one  from  Anna,  she  exclaimed — 

"  Oh  !  father  is  dead  !" 

It  is  useless  to  describe  the  painful  scene  which  followed ; 
very  similar  to  the  one  which  had  agitated  our  friends  a 
few  days  before.  But  now  the  misfortune  was  immeasura- 
bly greater,  and  both  Helen  and  Robert,  notwithstanding 

24* 


280  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  warning  they  had  had  of  the  sad  event,  were  deeply 
distressed. 

As  we  take  an  interest  in  the  pains  and  joys  of  our 
heroine,  we  will  here  transcribe  Anna's  letter  to  her  sister. 
A  few  moments'  communion  with  her  pure  spirit  can  but 
benefit  th*>  lovers  of  the  good  and  holy.  Thus  wrote  the 
young  girl : 

"MY   OWN   DEAR    SISTER: 

"  God  in  his  wisdom  has  thought  fit  to  afflict  us  in  a 
severe  manner  of  late,  and  I  trust  our  last  letters  have 
partially  prepared  you  for  the  dreadful  intelligence  I  am 
now  compelled  to  communicate.  Yes,  darling,  God  has 
called  the  beloved  parent  to  his  paradise ;  but  what  a  com- 
fort it  is  to  us,  to  think  that  several  months  of  suffering  had 
prepared  him  for  the  last  hour !  You  know  how  opposed 
he  was  to  all  religious  interference,  as  he  called  the  words 
of  consolation.  Well,  since  that  bitter  trial  which  brought 
such  a  change  in  our  fate,  father  had  become  an  altered 
man — meek  and  resigned,  patient  and  amiable ;  anxious  to 
converse  frequently  with  our  kind  pastor,  and  speaking  of 
you  all  with  so  much  affection !  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
welcome  that  happy  change  was  to  mother  and  myself. 
Alas !  and  with  what  ardour  we  clung  to  the  hope  of  keep- 
ing him  with  us  in  that  blessed  state !  But  Providence 
ordained  otherwise,  and  when  we  least  expected  it,  when 
his  strength  seemed  to  revive,  the  dreaded  knell  of  separa- 
tion had  sounded,  and  we  were  summoned  to  resign  the 
loved  one. 

"  It  was  an  agonizing  moment — twelve  o'clock  at  night. 
Mamma  and  Boget  were  sitting  up  with  the  patient,  who 
had  spent  a  quiet  evening.  I  had  retired  at  nine,  very 
much  fatigued,  having  read  several  hours  to  father.  A 
gentle  knock  roused  me  immediately. 


A    PEEP    AT  NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  281 

"'Come  down,  Miss  Anna,'  said  Sophie,  as  I  opened 
the  door  ;  'your  father  is  worse  !' 

"  I  hurried  to  the  sick-room  ;  and,  as  I  entered,  was 
struck  with  the  awful  change  in  that  pale  countenance. 
Mother  knelt  in  prayer. 

"  'Matilda,'  said  father,  so  softly  that  we  could  scarcely 
hear  his  voice,  *  farewell :  Anna,  Helen,  Robert,  Laura — all 
farewell !  0  Lord,  forgive  me  !' 

"  He  spoke  no  more ;  and,  as  I  kissed  his  emaciated 
hand,  its  icy  coldness  made  me  shiver !  Oh,  Helen,  death 
is  a  terrific  messenger — one  which  strikes  awe  in  every 
heart  !  Why,  why  are  we  not  always  prepared  for  its 
coming  ? 

"  Mother,  who  is,  you  know,  so  pious  and  submissive, 
has  borne  this  blow  with  wonderful  courage  ;  but  her  phy- 
sical strength  is  gone.  She  is  in  bed,  under  Dr.  Clifford's 
care,  and  just  now  she  called  me  to  send  you  her  love  and 
blessing,  adding,  that  you  must  not  think  of  coming  home 
until  the  fall.  We  shall  move  to  Allbreeze  next  week,  and 
probably  rent  this  house,  all  furnished.  Herman  tells  me 
that  we  may  fare  better  than  poor  father  expected.  Alas ! 
alas  !  three  days  ago  the  dear  friend  was  carried  to  his 
last  home,  and  we  miss  him  so  much !  Mrs.  Walker,  Mrs. 
Irving,  and  Alice  and  Emma,  have  been  so  devoted  !  Aunt 
Grantly  came  very  often,  but  we  dreaded  her  visits ;  they 
always  appeared  to  irritate  the  dear  patient.  I  have  seen 
a  great  deal  of  Mrs.  Murray,  who  seemed  to  take  such  an 
interest  in  us  all.  She,  too,  has  had  trouble.  She  told 
me  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Grey,  who  was  like  a  son  to  her. 
How  sad  this  world  is  !  Why  can  we  not  always  think  of 
the  happy  home  the  Saviour  has  prepared  for  us  ?  Fare- 
well, dear  ones — kind  Aunt  Seraph,  Laura,  and  my  pre- 
cious Arty.  What  a  comfort  the  little  one  would  be  to  ua 


282  HELEN  LEESON: 

just  now !  but  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  you  should  all  be 
away  from  this  atmosphere  of  gloom. 

"  Ever  your  devoted  sister,  ANNA." 

This  will  appear  an  unusually  profound  epistle  for  a  girl 
of  fifteen ;  but  let  it  be  remembered  that  Anna's  infirmity, 
in  depriving  her  of  the  sports  of  her  age,  had  opened  to 
her  inquiring  mind  treasures  of  knowledge,  which  had  pro- 
duced that  remarkable  cultivation  in  her  education.  For 
several  years,  Anna's  studies  had  been,  if  any  thing,  rather 
more  deep  than  Helen's;  and,  on  some  subjects,  the  younger 
sister  possessed  great  superiority  of  acquirements. 

Of  course,  after  receiving  this  sad  news,  all  idea  of 
going  to  Valpres  was  given  up  by  the  travellers. 

Laura  wrote  to  Madame  de  Mornay,  to  announce  her 
uncle's  death,  and  their  intention  of  leaving  for  Switzer- 
land in  a  few  days. 

Gustave's  mother  came  to  Paris  immediately  to  see  her 
American  friends,  and  offer  her  sincere  sympathy,  which 
was  soothing  to  the  afflicted  ones,  who  felt  so  much  alone 
in  that  great  city.  When  engaged  in  pleasurable  pursuits, 
we  can  dispense  with  'the  society  of  those  we  love ;  but 
when  care  is  our  guest,  how  essential  those  ties  of  affection 
become,  and  how  grateful  we  feel  for  the  word  or  look  of 
comfort  which  friendship  bestows  ! 

Madame  de  Cerny  and  her  daughters  were  also  kind  and 
attentive.  Blanche  assisted  Laura  in  making  the  purchases 
for  the  mourning  of  the  family ;  and  the  heartfelt  endeavours 
and  intellectual  resources  of  both  sisters  greatly  contributed 
to  soothe  the  sorrow  which  all  felt  very  keenly,  but  which 
seemed  to  have  crushed  Helen  completely.  Several  times, 
since  she  had  read  that  terrible  announcement  in  the  paper, 
she  had  buoyed  herself  with  the  hope  that  it  was  a  false 
report;  and,  as  Walter  had  corresponded  regularly  with 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         283 

Mrs.  Murray,  she  thought  that  some  news  of  the  young 
man  might  possibly  be  gleaned  from  his  friends ;  but,  from 
Anna's  letter,  it  was  evident  that  the  old  lady  had  given 
up  all  hope,  and  Helen's  spirits  drooped  beneath  the  heavy 
burden  of  care  which  weighed  upon  her  mind. 

Madame  de  Mornay,  in  her  last  meeting  with  Laura, 
intimated  her  wishes  regarding  her  son's  marriage  with 
Helen,  requesting,  however,  that  the  subject  should  not  be 
mentioned  to  her,  as  she  felt  how  inappropriate  the  time 
was  for  such  a  communication. 

Laura  appreciated  the  motive,  and  assured  Madame 
de  Mornay  of  her  sincere  desire  to  contribute  to  the 
success  of  an  event  which  would  insure  her  cousin's  hap- 
piness. 

"  When  we  return  from  Italy,  dear  madam,"  added  the 
countess,  "  I  hope  this  will  all  be  settled.  Of  my  cousin's 
consent  I  cannot  be  sure,  as  her  feelings  on  the  subject  are 
unknown  to  me ;  but,  methinks,  it  must  be  an  easy  task 
for  your  son  to  win  any  heart,  particularly  when  esteem 
and  regard  have  prepared  the  way  for  a  more  tender 
feeling." 

Before  closing  this  little  confab,  Laura  had  apprised 
Madame  de  Mornay  of  the  change  which  had  taken  place 
in  Helen's  prospects.  But  this  did  not  appear  to  in- 
fluence her  in  the  slightest  manner.  She  reiterated  her 
expressions  of  affection,  adding,  that  her  fortune  being 
considerable,  and  Gustave  her  only  child,  his  happiness 
was  the  main  object  of  her  wishes ;  and  that,  as  he  was 
attached  to  Helen,  she  saw  but  one  impediment  to  the 
match,  and  that  was  an  objection  on  the  part  of  the  young 
girl. 

Miss  Marsy  parted  with  her  Paris  friends  with  more 
regret  than  she  thought  possible,  considering  her  shorl 


284  HELEN  LEESON: 

stay  among  them.  One  month,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, will  do  but  little  to  ripen  a  mere  acquaintance 
into  friendship.  But  when  daily  intercourse  and  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  obligation  come  in  for  a  share  of 
influence,  we  find  a  strong  feeling  of  attachment  has  suc- 
ceeded to  the  indifference  which  we  felt  toward  those  persons 
a  short  month  ago.  Love  knows  no  time :  swift  as  the 
shafts  of  the  little  god,  it  shoots  through  space ;  it  wounds, 
it  conquers ;  and  among  its  subjects  there  is  no  account 
kept  of  those  hours  which  silently  glide  away  and  lead  on 
to  eternity. 

"  How  kind  and  polite  in  Gustave  de  Mornay !"  said 
Laura,  as  she  came  into  her  cousin's  room  on  the  eve  of 
their  departure ;  "  he  has  just  told  Robert  that  he  would 
accompany  us,  to-morrow,  as  far  as  Basle.  Having  visited 
Germany  several  times,  he  will  be  a  most  useful  and  agree- 
able travelling  companion." 

"Laura,"  said  Helen,  looking  up  from  a  letter  which  she 
was  writing  to  her  mother,  "  I  am  truly  sorry  the  viscount 
is  going  with  us.  You  know  it  is  wrong,  unladylike,  in 
me  to  give  him  the  slightest  encouragement." 

"Why  so,  pray  ?  Are  you  to  spend  all  the  days  of  your 
youth  mourning  over  a  dream,  Helen  ?" 

"  Oh  !  would  that  it  had  been  one  !  Would  that  those 
words  of  bitter  and  deserved  reproof  had  never  struck  my 
ear!" 

"Well,  dearest,  I  have  felt  for  you — I  have  sympathized 
in  all  your  sorrow ;  but  this  cannot  last.  You  owe  yourself 
to  your  mother ;  and  would  it  not  give  her  infinite  satis- 
faction to  see  you  well  married,  even  if  compelled  to  be 
separated  from  you  for  some  time  ?  Far  better  would  such 
a  fate  be  than  that  which  your  present  morbid  state  craves, 
my  own  dear  sister  !" 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        285 

"  Let  us  drop  that  subject  now,  darling  ;  I  am  unfit  for 
contention,  even  with  your  sweet  self." 

Laura,  being  an  excellent  diplomatist,  thought  proper 
not  to  insist,  and  trusted  to  chance  and  the  young  noble- 
man's powers  of  fascination  to  bring  forth  a  result  which 
she  so  sincerely  desired. 


286  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XXX 

OUR  travellers  were  deep  in  their  preparations  for  their 
journey.  They  were  to  take  the  cars  for  Strasbourg, 
where  they  expected  to  arrive  that  night. 

Monsieur  de  Mornay  was  at  the  hotel  in  time  to  join  the 
party  at  breakfast,  and  proved  most  efficient  in  arranging 
various  matters  conducible  to  the  comfort  of  all,  which 
Robert's  inexperience  or  carelessness  would  certainly  not 
have  suggested.  Aunt  Seraph,  as  usual,  scrupulously 
careful  to  avoid  all  intrusion  upon  her  neighbours,  was 
bountiful  of  her  apologies  to  the  young  man,  who  assured 
her  that  it  gave  him  great  pleasure  to  take  this  little  trip 
with  so  congenial  a  party ;  that  he  made  it  a  point  to  visit 
a  portion  of  Switzerland  every  summer,  previous  to  going 
to  the  Pyrenees  with  his  mother,  in  August.  He  would 
remain  with  them  three  days,  and  return  to  Paris  in  time 
to  be  at  Madame  de  Morn  ay's  orders  to  accompany  her  to 
Pau. 

This  being  settled,  and  Aunt  Seraph's  hesitations  at  rest, 
they  proceeded  to  the  einbarcadere  of  the  Strasbourg 
railroad.  By-the-by,  this  is  one  of  the  noblest  edifices 
which  art  and  industry  have  erected  to  the  glory  of  that 
great  modern  improvement.  The  French  were  slow  in 
following  the  examples  of  their  more  active  neighbours 
beyond  the  dividing  channel,  and  of  their  still  more  enter- 
prising fellow-men  on  this  side  of  the  great  ocean ;  but  few 
can  compete  with  their  present  works,  and  nowhere  are  the 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY. 

constructions  appertaining  to  railroads  erected  with  more 
magnificence  and  solidity  than  in  la  belle  France.  This 
remark  was  made  by  our  party  as  they  entered  the  com- 
fortable cars. 

The  day  passed  away  as  pleasantly  as  circumstances 
would  allow.  All  had  a  thorn  which  pierced  the  heart 
too  deeply  to  admit  of  that  buoyant  mirth  which  had  ren- 
dered their  trip  to  Valpres  so  agreeable.  .  Need  we  follow 
them,  and  detail,  hour  by  hour,  their  impressions  of  the 
fine  scenery  which  astonished  and  delighted  their  vision 
during  their  journey  from  Strasbourg  to  Basle  ?  The 
picturesque  beauties  of  the  Rhine  have  been  described  so 
often,  and  so  many  of  our  readers  have  enjoyed  their  varied 
charms,  that  it  would  be  useless' here  to  detain  them  with 
an  imperfect  pencilling  of  the  mysterious  stream  which  rolls 
its  waters  from  the  icy  regions  of  snow-clad  glaciers,  through 
the  verdant  gardens  of  Germany,  till  it  pours  them  into  the 
roaring  billows  of  the  North  Sea.  There  are  volumes  of 
romance  attached  to  the  borders  of  the  Rhine ;  and,  to  the 
poetical  fancy,  no  spot  in  Europe  is  so  pregnant  with  innate 
beauty,  and  reminiscences  of  antique  legends.  Each  tower- 
ing cliff  claims  an  echo  of  long-hushed  sounds ;  each  desolate 
castle  speaks  a  tale  of  mystery  and  love;  and  even  in 
the  modest  habitation  of  the  valley  there  is  a  breath  of 
poetry,  which  has  brought  forth  many  a  page  of  flowing 
eloquence. 

Gustave  de  Mornay,  who  had  visited  all  those  enchanting 
spots  repeatedly,  proved  an  excellent  cicerone ;  and  the 
three  days  which  he  had  devoted  to  his  American  friends 
passed  by  tqp  swiftly  for  all  except  Helen. 

The  young  girl  had  suffered  much  from  the  consciousness 
of  the  increasing  attachment  of  the  viscount. 

"  Shall  I  be  ever  doomed  to  repulse  those  who  love  me  ?" 

26 


288  HELEN  LEESON: 

she  muttered,  as  she  retired  on  the  third  evening  of  their 
journey.  "  Oh,  Walter,  how  bitterly  have  I  atoned  for  my 
cruel  conduct  to  you !  But,"  added  Helen,  as  she  sat 
gazing  upon  the  admirable  vistas  around,  while  the  moon 
shone  upon  her  sad  countenance,  "  Gustave  de  Mornay 
only  fancies  me.  He  is  carried  away  by  new  im- 
pressions, and  has  not  noticed  the  heart  which  has  been 
his  many  a  lojag  day.  Yes,  Blanche  is  attached  to 
Gustave ;  I  saw  it ;  and  he  likes  her,  and  will  love 
her.  Poor  little  violet !  How  reluctant  I  should  be  to 
crush  it,  even  if  all  my  hopes  were  not  deep  in  the 
grave !" 

With  keen  feminine  instinct,  Helen  had  detected  Made- 
moiselle de  Cerny's  attachment  for  the  young  nobleman ; 
and  great  was  her  admiration  for  the  devoted  girl,  when 
she  perceived  that  not  one  feeling  of  bitterness  tinged  her 
intercourse  with  her  apparent  rival.  No  !  It  was  only  in 
one  or  two  uncontrollable  expressions  of  interest,  that  the 
tie  which  bound  the  simple  girl  to  one  far  above  her  in 
rank  and  wealth  had  betrayed  itself. 

"Yes,  yes;  he  cannot  help  loving  Blanche,"  said  Helen, 
as  she  closed  the  window  and  retired  for  the  night,  satisfied 
with  having  thus  compromised  with  her  conscience,  which 
reproached  her  somewhat  regarding  her  distant  and  repul- 
sive manner  toward  the  kind  young  man. 

Before  leaving  his  friends,  Monsieur  de  Mornay  had  ad- 
vised them  to  take  a  travelling  carriage  at  Basle,  and  drive 
to  Berne.  This  arrangement  was  welcomed  by  all,  as  it 
promised  the  comforts  of  independence,  and  a  full  enjoy- 
ment of  the  magnificent  scenery. 

Accordingly,  the  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  our  party 
entered  the  carriage  which  Gustave  had  procured  for  them, 
and  were  soon,  thanks  to  four  good  horses  and  a  well-paid 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         289 

postillion,  some  distance  on  the  road  to  Berne.  The  weather 
was  very  fine  ;  and  all  being  restored  to  that  delightful 
home-feeling  which  private  conveyances  afford,  were  in 
better  spirits  than  of  late,  and  indulged  in  a  long  chat  about 
America  and  the  kind  friends  in  Paris,  interrupted  here 
and  there  by  an  exclamation  of  admiration  from  Laura  or 
Helen,  as  they  glanced  at  the  gigantic  splendour  of  Alpine 
nature.  All  these  trifling  emotions  prepared  the  travellers 
for  an  excellent  repast,  which  had  been  ordered  for  them 
on  the  preceding  evening,  again  by  Gustave,  and  which, 
in  their  present  state  of  locomotion,  was  greatly  appre- 
ciated. 

The  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  the  prospect  of 
reaching  Berne  late  that  night  was  discussed  by  the  ladies 
with  a  slight  feeling  of  awe,  as  the  setting  sun  caused  the 
shadows  of  the  mountains  to  grow  taller  and  taller,  until 
they  spread  their  gloomy  shroud  on  the  surrounding  land- 
scape. 

Robert  and  the  courier  laughed  at  their  fear,  and  the 
former  had  fallen  into  a  sound  sleep,  when  a  sudden  crash 
roused  the  whole  party,  and  elicited  a  scream,  which  was 
re-echoed  through  the  mountains. 

"  It  is  nothing  at  all,"  said  the  courier,  as  he  jumped 
off  the  box ;  "  but  the  axletree  is  broken,  and  we  cannot 
go  on.  You  must  get  out  quietly,  or  the  carriage  will  tip 
over." 

This  was  said  in  that  easy,  unconcerned  manner  with 
which  experienced  travellers  generally  view  slight  acci- 
dents ;  but  it  was  far  from  reassuring  to  the  terrified 
travellers. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?"  asked  Robert. 

"  Why,  sir,"  suggested  the  postillion,  "  there  is  a  small 
village  about  a  mile  from  here ;  I  will  go  there  on  horse- 


290  HELEN  LEESON: 

back  and  find  some  conveyance  for  you ;  but  you  will  be 
obliged  to  sleep  there,  as  we  could  not  possibly  reach  Berne 
before  to-morrow  morning." 

"Well,  well,  that  will  do.  Go  immediately,"  said  Ro- 
bert, while  the  ladies,  having  somewhat  recovered  from  their 
fright,  determined  to  make  the  best  of  their  accident.  The 
moon  was  just  rising  over  the  white  cliffs  of  the  mountains, 
and  its  rays  spread  a  brilliancy  on  the  scenery  around 
which  was  strikingly  beautiful.  The  weather  was  so  mild, 
that  they  had  little  to  fear  from  the  effects  of  the  night 
air ;  and  Laura,  who  had  a  particular  fancy  for  what  she 
styled  the  freaks  of  fate,  walked  up  and  down  the  road  in 
fine  spirits,  threatening  Aunt  Seraph,  who  was  very  much 
alarmed,  with  the  sudden  apparition  of  some  terrific  bri- 
gand, who  would  carry  her  off  to  his  rural  domains  among 
yon  rugged  peaks. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  postillion  returned,  followed  by 
a  sort  of  a  country-wagon,  drawn  by  one  horse,  and  driven, 
by  a  sturdy-looking  Swiss  peasant. 

"  This  is  all  we  could  procure,"  said  the  postillion, 
humbly  doffing  his  cap  to  the  ladies.  "  This  good  man 
keeps  the  inn  at  Reinsbach ;  it  is  a  pretty  place,  and  the 
accommodations  are  quite  good." 

"Charming!"  said  Laura,  delighted  with  the  little  epi- 
sode, which  thus  afforded  her  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
many  picturesque  beauties  they  might  have  passed  un- 
noticed. 

The  party  entered  the  wagon,  leaving  the  courier  and 
postillion  to  raise  the  carriage,  so  as  to  convey  it  to  the 
village,  where  it  could  be  repaired. 

The  drive  was  a  short  one;  and  it  was  with  infinite 
satisfaction  that  our  friends  stopped  at  the  inn,  where, 
as  the  host  had  assured  them,  they  found  a  share  of 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        291 

comfort   quite   sufficient  to  satisfy   the  wants  of  wearied 
travellers. 

A  good  supper  and  neat  bed-rooms  were  considered  great 
luxuries  amid  the  wilds  of  the  mountains ;  and  all  retired, 
after  having  expressed  their  admiration  of  the  little  Swiss 
hostess — her  order  and  cleanliness. 

Laura  and  Helen  occupied  the  same  room ;  and,  as  they 
rose  the  next  morning,  Laura  exclaimed — 

"  Oh,  do  look  at  this  view !  It  is  an  earthly  paradise. 
I  should  not  have  missed  seeing  this  for  a  great  deal!" 

Reinsbach  was  indeed  a  lovely  spot — one  of  the  many 
gems  which  conceal  their  charms  in  the  valleys  of  Switzer- 
land. It  was  situated  on  a  small  lake,  surrounded  by  a 
landscape  so  grand,  so  wild,  that  one  might  have  fancied  it 
had  stood  thus  since  the  Creator  bid  that  all  things  should 
be.  Here  and  there  only  a  few  acres  of  cultivated  ground 
showed  that  man  claims  his  rights  from  the  furthest  re- 
cesses of  Nature's  store. 

There  was  some  life  and  animation  about  the  village ;  and 
Laura  ascertained  from  the  young  girl  who  waited  upon  her, 
that  many  persons  came  to  Reinsbach,  attracted  by  the 
salubriousness  of  the  mountain  air.  "  And  some  English 
families  have  spent  several  months  here  in  these  cottages," 
she  added. 

"  We  cannot  leave  this  place  until  this  afternoon,"  said 
Laura;  "I  must  see  more  of  it.  Robert,"  continued  the 
countess  as  they  met  in  the  dining-room,  "  we  would  like  to 
take  a  walk  around  this  sweet  lake." 

"  I  have  no  objection,  but  cannot  accompany  you,  as  I 
find  the  carriage  must  be  taken  to  a  town  some  five  miles 
off,  to  be  repaired.  I  am  going  there  this  morning  with 
mine  host  to  see  what  conveyance  can  be  procured  to  reach 
Berne  before  to-night." 

25* 


292  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Very  well ;  we  will  take  one  of  the  servants  about  here. 
Helen  and  I  are  not  afraid  of  any  thing.  Will  you  join 
us,  Aunt  Seraph  ?" 

"  No,  dear  ;  I  slept  badly,  and  am  not  equal  to  the  task. 
I  will  stay  with  Arty.  But  do  not  go  too  far,  girls ;  I  shall 
be  worried  to  death." 

Robert  insisted  upon  leaving  the  courier  to  accompany 
his  sister  and  cousin,  and  started  with  the  inn-keeper  on 
his  unsatisfactory  business. 

Enchanted  with  the  prospect  of  a  stroll  in  that  wild 
country,  Laura  sallied  forth  with  Helen.  They  walked 
some  distance  by  a  bright  sunshine,  enjoying  the  exhila- 
rating exercise,  and  inhaling  the  perfumes  of  the  aromatic 
shrubbery. 

u  Oh  !  here  is  a  boat,  Helen  !"  said  the  countess;  "sup- 
pose we  get  this  man  to  row  us  to  the  other  side.  It  must 
be  delightful  to  glide  over  this  silvery  sheet  of  water."  , 

"  I  am  willing ;  but  look,  Laura,  at  that  dark  cloud 
coming  over  those  white  peaks ;  we  might  have  rain  before 
we  reach  the  inn." 

"  Oh !  no,  Dame  Prudence ;  you  are  a  real  full-stop  to 
one's  fancies.  Now,  I  am  bent  upon  a  row  across  this 
lake;  it  cannot  possibly  do  us  any  harm.  Pierre,"  added 
the  countess,  addressing  the  courier  in  French,  "  ask  that 
man  if  he  will  take  us  over  in  his  boat." 

The  man  obeyed,  and  having  received  a  favourable  answer, 
he  assisted  both  ladies  into  the  bateau,  and  quietly  took 
hia  seat  at  the  other  end  of  the  little  craft. 

"  Is  this  not  sweet  ?"  exclaimed  Laura,  as  the  young 
peasant  sang  his  wild  mountain  song,  beating  time  with  his 
oars,  and  shooting  over  the  smooth  waters  as  swiftly  as  a 
bird  The  lake  was  very  broad,  and  the  ramblers  had 
scarcely  reached  half-way  across  it,  when,  as  Helen  had 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         293 

prophesied,  the  dark  clouds  came  sailing  toward  them,  large 
drops  of  rain  began  to  fall,  and  in  a  few  moments  a  heavy 
shower  streamed  over  them,  rendering  parasols  and  blanket 
shawls  very  inefficient  protections. 

"  Tell  him  to  row  us  to  the  nearest  house  for  shelter, 
Pierre,"  said  Helen,  who  feared  her  cousin  might  take 
cold. 

In  a  short  time  they  had  cleared  the  distance  which 
separated  them  from  the  shore,  and  both  cousins,  leaping 
out  of  the  boat,  ran  up  a  little  slope  which  led  to  a  cottage, 
evidently  inhabited  by  persons  of  some  wealth.  Helen 
knocked,  and  the  door  was  immediately  opened  by  an 
old  man-servant,  who,  without  waiting  to  make  any  question, 
ushered  the  two  ladies  into  a  small  drawing-room. 

"We  have  been  overtaken  by  the  rain,"  said  the  coun- 
tess in  French ;  "  will  you  allow  us  to  remain  here  until  it 
is  over?" 

"  Of  course,"  answered  the  servant,  as  he  proceeded  to 
light  the  fire,  which  seemed  to  be  prepared  for  a  like 
emergency.  "  And  will  you  not  take  something,  ladies  ?"  he 
added,  in  English.  "  A  glass  of  wine  ?  you  must  be  cold. 
I  have  orders  from  my  mistress,  Lady  Falkland,  who  is 
now  in  Geneva,  to  receive  all  travellers  who  are  overtaken 
by  our  mountain  storms,  and  treat  them  with  due  hospi- 
tality," continued  the  old  man,  as  he  removed  the  wet 
shawls,  and  soon  returned  with  a  waiter  on  which  were 
wine  and  a  plate  of  biscuits;  after  which  he  left  the 
cousins  to  themselves. 

"  I  am  completely  chilled,"  said  Laura,  as  she  sat  near 
the  blazing  fire.  "  How  delightfully  this  feels  !  Now,  as 
long  as  we  are  alone  in  this  cozy  domain,  we  might  as 
well  make  ourselves  at  home ;  we  shall  have  to  remain 
here  an  hour  or  two.  How  the  wind  blows,  and  how  ter- 


294  HELEN  LEESON: 

rific  the  outbursts  of  Nature's  violence  appear  among  these 
wild  regions !" 

"  Come,  darling,"  interrupted  Helen,  who  felt  some 
anxiety  about  Laura's  delicate  health ;  "  let  me  settle  you 
down  on  this  lounge,  near  the  fire ;  perhaps  you  can  sleep 
a  little  while ;  that  will  restore  you  sooner  than  any  thing 
else.  And  here  is  a  dry  blanket  shawl,  which,  doubtless, 
her  ladyship  left  for  the  use  of  crazy  ramblers  like  our 
selves." 

Laura,  who  felt  tired  and  exhausted,  made  no  resistance, 
and  she  had  scarcely  been  wrapped  up  by  Helen  before  she 
fell  asleep. 

For  some  time  the  young  girl  watched  the  pale  coun- 
tenance and  listened  to  the  short  breathing,  but,  finding 
that  her  cousin  was  really  at  rest,  she  glanced  around  the 
little  parlour  in  which  they  had  found  such  a  timely  and 
comfortable  welcome.  It  was  furnished  in  maroon  velvet, 
not  with  a  great  deal  of  luxury,  but  the  furniture  had 
evidently  been  selected  by  one  accustomed  to  ease  and 
elegance.  Helen  rose  and  walked  into  the  adjoining  room, 
which  seemed  a  sort  of  gallery,  devoted  principally  to  works 
of  art.  Several  handsome  paintings  hung  on  the  dark 
walls,  and  one  or  two  pieces  of  statuary  indicated  the  taste 
of  an  artist. 

As  she  was  gazing  on  a  fine  Madonna  and  child  which 
filled  the  panel  between  the  windows,  the  wind  blew  so 
violently  that  a  door  at  the  extremity  of  the  gallery  was 
partially  forced  open,  and  Helen  could  see  that  it  led  into 
an  apartment  evidently  illuminated.  She  hesitated ;  but, 
supposing  this  to  be  a  chapel,  and  feeling  an  irresistible 
desire  to  kneel  and  pour  out  the  sufferings  of  her  soul  in 
the  presence  of  her  heavenly  Father,  she  gently  opened 
the  door,  and  found  herself  in  a  retreat  dedicated  to  a 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         295 

worship  far  different  from  "what  she  had  expected,  and 
which  filled  her  mind  with  doubt  and  fear. 

It  was  a  small  room,  about  ten  feet  square,  entirely  hung 
in  folds  of  crimson  velvet,  and  containing  no  furniture  but 
a  couch  of  the  same  material,  the  cushions  of  which  appeared 
to  have  been  used  very  lately.  From  the  ceiling  hung  a 
large  gilt  lamp,  whose  rays  spread  a  bright  light  in  the 
little  sanctuary.  But  what  attracted  Helen's  attention, 
and  riveted  her  gaze  in  a  painful  manner,  was  a  pedestal 
of  marble,  beautifully  wrought,  which  stood  in  the  middle 
of  this  mysterious  retreat,  and  upon  which  lay  a  wreath  of 
golden  grapes. 

"  Oh !  where  am  I,  and  what  does  this  mean  ?"  ex- 
claimed the  agitated  girl,  as  she  leaned  on  the  couch  for 
support;  and  clasping  her  hands  on  her  throbbing  temples, 
she  added — "  I  know  that  wreath  :  it  was  mine  ;  when — 
when — " 

Before  the  words  had  escaped  her  lips,  a  footstep  in  the 
adjoining  room  arrested  her  attention  ;  the  door  was  thrown 
open,  a'»d  Walter  Grey  stood  before  her. 

Ono  single  shriek  was  heard,  and  she  fell  back  senseless. 

"  0  Lord !"  muttered  the  young  man,  for  he  it  was. 
"  how  mysterious  are  thy  decrees  !  Have  I  not  suffered 
long  enough  ?"  and  he  knelt  before  the  fainting  girl,  using 
all  pose  ble  means  of  restoring  her  to  life.  Full  twenty 
minutes  elapsed  before  Helen  evinced  any  signs  of  re- 
turning consciousness.  How  long  they  appeared  to  the 
sufferer  who  watched  the  colourless  features  with  intense 
agony ! 

At  last  a  convulsive  tremour  ran  through  the  hand  he 
held  in  his,  a  slight  quiver  of  the  lip  was  perceptible,  a 
delicate  roseate  hue  tinged  the  pale  cheek,  and  indicated 
that  life  had  not  vanished;  the  heavy  eyelids  rose  gra- 


296  HELEN  LEESON: 

dually,  but  there  was  no  power  of  utterance  to  express  the 
overflowing  of  that  broken  heart. 

"Helen,"  he  said,  as  he  dropped  her  hand,  and  sat  on 
the  couch  near  her,  "  do  we  meet  again  in  hatred  ?  Have 
you  forgiven  me?" 

"  Oh,  Walter !"  at  last  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  ex- 
hausted girl ;  and  as  the  tears  fell  fast,  she  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands. 

"Why  this  grief?"  he  added.  "  Oh,  I  had  thought  that 
we  would  both  have  been  spared  this  bitter  trial  !  I 
struggled  long  against  that  affection  which  was  the  very 
breath  of  my  life;  and,  for  many  days,  the  agony  was  in- 
tense ;  but  now  I  am  calm — the  sacrifice  is  made  !  Yes,"  he 
continued,  "  all  things  are  indifferent  to  me  at  present ;  my 
only  wish  is  to  live  and  die  here  alone.  I  care  for  no  one  !" 

"  Then — then  !"  she  exclaimed,  "you  do  not  love  me?" 
and  suddenly  placing  her  hand  on  his  lips,  she  added,  with 
an  indescribable  expression  of  despair,  "  Oh,  for  mercy's 
sake,  don't  say  so  !  You  would  kill  me  !" 

"  What  can  you  mean,  Helen  ?  Am  I  dreaming  ?  Am 
I  deranged  ?" 

"  No,  no  !  See,  Walter,  see  ;  and  do  not  say  you  hate 
me !"  she  added,  as  she  drew  from  her  bosom  the  likeness 
•which  had  betrayed  her  secret  to  Laura. 

He  took  the  locket,  looked  at  it  for  an  instant,  and  then, 
folding  her  passionately  to  his  heart,  he  exclaimed — 

"  My  wife  !  my  own  !" 

"  Yes,  yours — yours  forever  !"  she  muttered  ;  and,  for 
a  few  moments,  both  were  lost  in  the  joy  which  acute 
suffering  had  rendered  so  pure,  so  intense ! 

"  Walter,"  whispered  the  happy  girl,  gently  disengaging 
herself  from  his  embrace,  "  I  thought  I  should  have  died 
just  now,  when  you  said  you  did  not  love  inc." 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.       297 

"  Not  love  you,  my  precious — my  only  treasure  ?  Did 
I  say  so  ?  I  was  distracted  !  But,  tell  me,  to  what  good 
genius,  to  what  angelic  interference,  do  I  owe  the  blessed 
change  which  has  opened  the  gates  of  paradise  to  my 
withered  heart  ?" 

Helen  related,  with  a  blushing  cheek,  every  detail  'f  her 
mysterious  attachment — the  long  struggle,  the  extraordi- 
nary manner  in  which  the  true  state  of  her  feelings  had 
burst  upon  her  bewildered  mind  ;  and  then  she  added,  "  But 
whence  arose  that  terrible  report  ?" 

"  It  was  the  announcement  of  my  poor  father's  death 
that  you  saw.  He  was  travelling  in  the  State  of  New 
York,  and  being  at  a  small  town  called  Rome,  was  acci- 
dentally run  over  by  a  stage  and  killed.  I  received  this 
sad  intelligence  from  my  uncle,  and  the  same  steamer 
brought  me  the  paper  containing  the  strange  announce- 
ment. I  saw  immediately  that  it  might  be  mistaken  for 
myself,  as  I  was  in  Italy  at  the  time,  and  had  written  from 
Rome  to  Mrs.  Murray  and  George.  Accordingly,  my 
mind  was  made  up  at  once.  I  knew  that  this  news  would 
reach  you,  and  thus  break  the  spell  which  bound  you  to 
my  miserable  fate.  I  determined  to  seek  some  retired  spot, 
where  I  could  live  secluded  from  the  world,  and  give  up  all 
ties  with  America.  The  sacrifice  was  great,  but  not  half 
what  I  was  capable  of  enduring  for  your  sake.  At  Flo- 
rence, I  met  Lady  Falkland,  an  agreeable  person.  .She 
spoke  of  a  cottage  which  she  owned  in  this  retired  spot, 
and  consented  to  lease  it  to  me  for  a  year,  as  she  intended 
travelling  in  the  East.  I  was  so  delighted  with  this  pic- 
turesque country,  that  I  determined  to  purchase  this  house, 
which  I  succeeded  in  doing  six  weeks  ago.  I  then  pro 
ceeded  to  furnish  it  to  suit  my  misanthropic  tastes — to 
surround  myself  with  every  thing  which  could  soothe  my 


298  HELEN  IEESON:  • 

blighted  spirit ;  and  this  spot  I  devoted  to  the  worship 
of  a  souvenir — the  only  liu,k  which  bound  me  to  you, 
Helen." 

"  Oh  !"  she  whispered,  "  can  I  ever,  ever  repay  you  for 
all  the  suffering  I  have  caused?" 

"  Tell  me  that  the  past  is  forgotten,  and  that  you  are 
mine.  These  words  from  your  lips  will  obliterate  all. 
But,"  he  added,  gazing  with  intense  tenderness  upon  her 
uplifted  countenance,  "  how  pale — how  thin  you  are,  my 
own  ! — so  changed  !  In  my  joy,  I  had  not  noticed  it." 

"I  have  had  so  much  trouble,  Walter !" 

"  Yes,  I  see  grief  has  spread  its  gloomy  vail  over  your 
young  heart.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  these  robes  of  death 
on  you,  dearest.  Who  are  you  wearing  them  for?  Not 
your  mother,  I  trust." 

"No  ;  my  poor  father.  Oh  !  do  not  curse  his  memory! 
Before  I  parted  from  him,  he  partially  acknowledged  his 
guilt,  and  bid  me,  unconscious  of  the  link  which  fate 
'had  woven,  tell  you  that  he  craved  your  forgiveness , 
and  thus  do  I  kneel  to  you,  in  the  name  of  the  departed 
penitent." 

"  You,  Helen,  at  my  feet  ?  Never  !  never  !"  and  once 
more  he  clasped  the  lovely  girl  to  his  bosom.  "  Talk  not 
of  those  melancholy  events,  darling,"  he  continued  ;  "our 
parents  erred  in  a  terrific  manner,  and  both  were  doomed 
to  leave  this  sad  world  without  the  knowledge  of  the  bright 
joy  which  now  dawns  upon  their  children." 

"Walter,  explain  to  me  how  you  succeeded  in  deceiving 
your  uncle  upon  that  false  report  ?  He  must  have  heard 
of  your  father's  accident." 

"  I  don't  know ;  but  as  I  never  wrote  him  since  then,  he 
may  have  supposed  that  a  strange  coincidence  had  caused 
my  death  in  Italy  about  the  same  time  that  father's 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YOKE  SOCIETY.        299 

occurred  in  the  State  of  New  York ;  and,  as  previous 
to  leaving  America,  I  had  settled  my  business,  so  as  to 
invest  a  considerable  amount  in  England,  I  was  not 
obliged  to  apply  to  uncle.  You  see,  Providence  had  wisely 
ordained  all  things,  in  thus  furnishing  me  the  means  of 
expiating  my  errors." 

"  Yes,  and  God  directed  my  steps  to  you,  that  I  might 
atone  for  my  cruelty.  But  in  my  joy  Laura  has  been  for- 
gotten; she  is  here  asleep  in  the  parlour." 

"  I  saw  the  countess  as  I  came  in.  My  faithful  Roger, 
the  same  who  was  my  accomplice  in  that  terrible  tragedy 
last  year,  apprized  me  of  your  being  here,  as  I  returned 
from  one  of  my  rambles  in  the  mountains.  My  first  im- 
pulse was  to  avoid  seeing  you ;  and  supposing  you  to  be  in 
the  parlour,  I  went  into  the  adjoining  gallery.  From  there 
I  saw  the  countess  asleep,  but  alone ;  then  I  thought  you 
must  be  here.  Oh !  words  cannot  express  my  feelings 
when  I  entered  this  retreat,  where  my  fate  was  once 
more  to  be  decided  !  But  now  I  am  so  happy !  The  sen- 
sation is  strange  and  new,  and  I  feel  that,  were  I  deprived 
of  your  presence,  it  would  be  death  indeed !" 

"  That  need  not  be,  thank  Heaven.  But  let  us  go  to 
Laura  now,  Walter.  I  am  afraid  I  have  left  her  too  long 
alone." 

"  Has  the  countess  heard  our  strange  history  ?"  asked 
the  young  man,  as  he  rose  and  drew  Helen's  arm  in  his. 

"•  Yes,  yes ;  she  knows  all,  and  she  pleaded  your  cause 
with  sisterly  eloquence  until  all  hopes  were  lost." 

Both  proceeded  to  the  drawing-room;  Laura  was  still 
asleep,  but  as  they  advanced  toward  the  couch,  the  rustling 
of  Helen's  dress  awoke  her.  She  opened  her  eyes,  looked 
at  the  happy  couple,  and  starting  up,  she  exclaimed — 

"Walter  Grey!" 

26 


300  HELEN    LEESOX: 

"  Myself,  dear  lady,"  he  said,  as  he  clasped  her  extende  I 
hand. 

"  Oh  !  this  is  joy  indeed  !  Helen,  my  own  sister,  how 
delighted  I  am  !  But,"  she  added,  smiling,  "are  you  quite 
sure  it  is  he — not  a  ghost  ?" 

"  If  this  is  a  being  of  that  mysterious  nature,  then  pray 
write  my  epitaph,  dearest,"  said  Helen. 

"Now,  Mr.  Grey,"  continued  the  young  countess,  "an- 
Bwer  for  yourself,  and  let  me  know  all  about  that  strange 
intelligence  which  has  reduced  this  fair  lady  to  a  mere 
shadow,  and  dear  Mrs.  Murray  to  despair." 

Walter  proceeded  to  relate  the  story  he  had  told  Helen. 

"What!  already  three  o'clock!"  exclaimed  Laura; 
"  aunt  will  be  very  much  alarmed  about  us.  Is  it  safe  for 
us  to  row  over  to  the  inn,  now  ?" 

"  Quite  so ;  but  I  will  order  my  wagon  and  drive  you 
around  the  lake ;  it  will  take  but  a  few  minutes  more,  and 
is  much  pleasanter  after  such  a  storm." 

"See  how  calm  nature  is  now!"  said  Helen,  turning  to 
the  window  as  Walter  left  the  room.  "  How  beautiful  and 
serene  it  louhs  after  that  violent  convulsion  !" 

"Is  it  not  the  image  of  your  own  heart?"  replied  the 
young  countess ;  "  and  has  not  his  presence  brought  in 
your  fate  a  change  as  bright,  as  pure  as  that  which  robes 
this  mountain  scenery  ?  Oh !  now  I  am  satisfied,  and  it 
will  be  one  pang  less  to  bear  when  the  time  comes !" 

"  Laura,  I  cannot  be  happy  without  you ;  it  breaks  my 
joy  to  hear  you  talk  thus." 

"  He  will  be  all  in  all  to  you,  my  darling.  I  have  known 
that  blessing,  and  I  cannot  live  deprived  of  it,"  added  the 
countess,  with  a  depression  which,  of  late,  she  had  not  in- 
dulged in. 

"  The  carriage  is  at  your  orders,  ladies,"  said  Walter, 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         301 

as  he  returned  to  the  drawing-room.  "  Roger  had  wisely 
surmised  that  it  would  be  safer  for  you  to  drive  over  to  the 
inn ;  adding,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a  smile  which  made 
Helen  blush,  "  '  I  suppose  your  wife,  Mr.  Walter,  does  not 
remain  here !' " 

"Not  quite  yet,"  replied  Laura  laughing.  "Now,  my 
'children,  (for  I  claim  you  both  as  your  senior  in  wisdom,) 
how  shall  we  explain  all  this  to  aunt  and  Robert,  and  how 
will  you  account  for  your  long  silence  to  your  American 
friends,  Mr.  Grey — Walter,  I  mean,  for  I  am  your  sister 
from  this  very  moment." 

"  I  have  scarcely  had  time  to  collect  my  thoughts  on  the 
subject,  dear  lady.  Of  course  it  is  best  that  no  one  should 
know  the  strange  circumstances  connected  with  our  mar- 
riage. The  ceremony  will  be  performed  once  more  when 
we  return  to  New  York,  and  till  then  I  must  be  but  an 
humble  suitor  for  this  fair  lady." 

"  Very  well ;  then  what  must  we  say  about  that  re- 
port ?" 

"  The  truth,  to  a  certain  extent.  That  is,  that  it  was 
the  announcement  of  my  father's  death ;  and  that  having 
travelled  for  several  weeks  through  Turkey  and  Greece 
after  that  event,  my  letters  to  America  (which  I  never 
wrote)  had  miscarried.  I  will  write  by  this  steamer  to 
Mrs.  Murray  and  my  uncle,  as  though  my  correspondence 
had  been  regularly  kept  up.  After  all,  only  two  months 
have  elapsed ;  and,  although  improbable,  my  story  is  not 
an  impossible  one." 

"You  are,  I  see,  an  excellent  contriver,"  said  Laura. 
"  Now,  let  us  go ;  and  as  I  have  a  certain  curiosity  to  visit 
this  romantic  dwelling,  to-morrow,  when  Robert  has  heard 
of  your  being  here,  you  will  invite  us,  in  a  very  polite  man- 
ner, to  drive  over  to  see  your  paintings.  Only,  let  me 


302  HELEN  LEESON: 

warn  you  not  to  forget  that  you  have  been  just  introduced 
to  Miss  Leeson,  and  are  merely  an  admirer." 

"I  am,  most  undoubtedly,"  he  said,  pressing  the  little 
hand  which  was  laid  in  his,  as  the  lovers  followed  Laura 
to  the  carriage. 

The  drive  was  short,  but  most  agreeable  to  the  party. 
They  reached  the  inn  in  about  an  hour,  and  found  Aunt 
Seraph  in  great  alarm.  The  old  friend  was  so  delighted  to 
see  her  children  safe,  that  she  scarcely  noticed  Walter.  In 
fact,  she  was  totally  ignorant  of  the  great  interest  her 
nieces  took  in  the  young  man,  who,  after  spending  a  few 
moments  with  the  ladies,  returned  to  his  home,  promising 
to  see  them  that  evening,  as  they  had  determined  not  to 
leave  for  Berne  until  the  following  morning. 


A    PEEP    AT   NEW   YORK   SOCIETY.  303 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

WE  have  said  that  Laura  was  a  capital  diplomatist. 
She  was,  indeed ;  and  her  intelligent  affection  was  now  put 
into  requisition  to  diminish  many  of  the  minor  difficulties 
which  circumstances  threw  across  the  mysterious  fate  of 
Helen  and  her  husband. 

It  is  hard,  she  thought,  that  when  so  much  suffering  has 
been  their  share,  they  should,  now  that  Providence  has 
allowed  this  blessed  reunion,  be  deprived  of  that  intercourse 
which  they  are  so  well  entitled  to.  And  still,  for  Helen's 
cake,  it  is  essential  that  appearances  should  be  regarded, 
and  several  weeks  must  elapse  before  Walter  can  pay  his 
addresses  to  her,  and  their  engagement  be  acknowledged. 
I  will  manage  it.  With  this  end  in  view,  Laura  whispered 
to  Helen,  as  they  saw  Robert  return  from  his  expedition — 
"  Don't  speak  of  Walter ;  you  would  betray  yourself.  I 
will  tell  him  my  version  of  the  story."  Therefore,  after 
questioning  the  young  man  about  their  chances  for  the 
morrow,  and  partially  relating  the  occurrences  of  the  morn- 
ing, she  added — 

"  And  who  should  be  spending  a  few  weeks  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood but  your  supposed-to-be-lost  friend  Mr.  Grey, 
Robert." 

"Walter?"  exclaimed  the  young  man. 

"  Yes.  You  know  he  is  an  eccentric,  misanthropic  sort 
of  a  fellow.  Well,  it  appears  he  met  a  charming  English 
woman  in  Italy — a  Lady  Falkland — who,  finding  that  he 

26* 


304  HELEN    LEESOX: 

was  quite  an  artist,  offered  him  to  spend  a  few  weeks  at 
her  cottage  here  on  the  lake,  and  we  happened  to  stop  there 
for  shelter  in  the  storm.  Was  it  not  strange  ?" 

"  Very !  But  how  happy  I  shall  be  to  see  the  dear 
fellow !  Aunt  Seraph,  you  don't  know  him  ;  he  is  one  of 
my  best  friends,  and  so  handsome  and  gentlemanly." 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Marsy,  "he  did  not  strike  me  as 
being  half  as  pleasing  as  Monsieur  de  Mornay." 

"  Quite  a  different  style,"  said  Laura,  who  could  scarcely 
refrain  from  smiling.  "  But  then,  he  is  a  genuine  Ame- 
rican ;  and  you  know,  aunt,  that  is  worth  the  finest  title 
and  all  the  wealth  in  the  world." 

"  I  suppose  it  is,"  replied  the  old  lady,  quite  astonished 
to  hear  Laura  even  slightly  depreciate  the  viscount ;  "  but 
Gustave  is  a  great  favourite  of  mine." 

"Did  Walter  say  he  would  return  to  see  us  before  we 
leave  ?"  asked  Robert. 

"Yes;  this  evening." 

"Now,  Helen,"  continued  the  young  man,  "I  hope 
you  will  learn  to  value  him ;  I  must  try  to  induce  him  to 
accompany  us  as  far  as  Interlachen.  But  he  is  such  a 
bear !  I  don't  believe  he  will  trust  himself  with  so  many 
ladies." 

"  We  will  tame  him,"  said  Laura.  "  There  is  only  one 
danger  that  I  see,  and  that  is,  that  we  shall  all  like  him 
too  well,  if  he  is  what  Mrs.  Murray  describes  him  to  be." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Laura?"  thought  Aunt  Seraph ; 
"  this  young  man  has  bewitched  her ;  but  Helen's  silence 
epeaks  in  favour  of  Gustave  de  Mornay." 

As  we  may  perceive,  Miss  Seraphina  had  but  little 
knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  or  she  might  have  known 
that  in  love  matters  silence  implies  interest. 

At  seven  o'clock,  as  the  travellers  rose  from  the  supper- 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YOKE    SOCIETY.  305 

table,  Walter  made  his  appearance.  Robert's  greeting  of 
his  friend  was  such  as  a  warm  heart  and  a  deep  sense  of 
gratitude  would  prompt,  and  this  affectionate  welcome  at 
once  placed  the  young  man  somewhat  on  an  intimate  foot- 
ing with  the  party.  Aunt  Seraph  was  the  last  to  admit 
the  stranger  to  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of  her  favour.  In 
fact,  Laura  had  so  wound  around  the  old  lady's  heart  in 
favour  of  the  viscount,  that  she  had  constructed  a  brilliant 
palace  in  the  air,  of  which  her  niece  was  to  be  queen ;  and 
she  considered  their  new  acquaintance  as  an  intruder  upon 
her  dreams — one  who  might  shake  the  very  foundation  of 
her  ethereal  edifice. 

Little  Arty,  whom  we  have  scarcely  mentioned  of  late, 
but  who  exercised  an  undisturbed  sway  over  all,  ran  in 
after  the  evening  meal  to  get  a  last  kiss  from  his  little 
mamma,  as  he  styled  Laura.  The  noble  boy,  who  had 
grown  taller  and  stronger  since  the  days  of  his  capers  with 
friend  Dob  on  the  broad  Atlantic,  ran  to  his  mother,  and 
then  turned  suddenly  toward  Walter,  exclaiming — 

"  The  gentleman  in  your  picture,  Cousin  Robert." 

"  Yes ;  I  have  a  daguerreotype  of  you,  Walter,  which 
this  fellow  has  played  with  in  my  room  many  a  time. 
You  have  an  excellent  memory,  you  young  rogue." 

"Elly  don't  like  the  gentleman  in  the  picture,"  added 
the  child  ;  "  do  you,  Elly  ?" 

"Will  Arthur  love  me,  then?"  said  the  young  man, 
noticing  the  deep  blush  on  Helen's  cheek,  and  drawing  the 
boy  toward  him. 

"  Yes,  Arty  loved  you  in  the  picture ;  it  was  pretty ; 
mamma  said  it  was,  but — " 

"But  my  pet  must  go  to  bed  now,"  said  Laura,  dread- 
ing the  untutored  frankness  of  her  son.  "  Now,  kiss  Mr. 
Grey,  and  say  good-night." 


306  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Good-night,  all !"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  threw  his  arms 
around  Nina's  neck. 

The  evening  was  spent  very  quietly:  many  home  topics 
were  discussed  by  those  whom  they  interested  so  keenly ; 
and  at  nine  Walter  took  leave  of  the  ladies,  having,  accord- 
ing to  Laura's  suggestion,  invited  them  to  visit  Lady 
Falkland's  cottage  on  the  following  day,  and  partially 
promised  Robert  to  meet  their  party  at  Interlachen. 

Again  we  might  say  with  the  poet — "A  change  came 
o'er  the  spirit  of  my  dream." 

How  sweet,  how  pure,  were  the  young  girl's  feelings  as 
she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow  that  night,  and  recalled  to 
her  mind  every  occurrence  of  that  eventful  morning  !  How 
new  the  sensation,  the  thrill  of  delight  which  had  run 
through  every  vein  as  she  met  the  beloved  one,  as  she  felt 
the  passionate  gaze  beaming  upon  her  !  Oh  !  love  in  its 
purity  is  a  spark  of  heavenly  origin ;  it  springs  from  the 
Creator,  and  returns  unsullied  to  the  throne  of  divine 
grace.  Thus  thought  Helen,  as  she  closed  her  eyes, 
wearied  and  exhausted;  yes,  exhausted,  for  joy  in  its  out- 
bursts is  as  wearing  to  the  life-springs  of  our  being  as  an 
emotion  of  a  darker  nature. 

And  when  the  light  of  the  dawning  day  streamed  upon 
the  sleeping  girl,  the  cherished  name  burst  from  her  lips, 
and  she  awoke  to  the  morning  of  her  happiness ! 

Miss  Marsy  having  again  declined  accompanying  her 
nieces,  Laura,  Helen,  and  Robert  drove  over  to  Lady  Falk- 
land's cottage,  and  were  welcomed  at  the  door  by  the  host 
himself. 

"  Why,  you  extravagant  fellow !"  said  young  Leeson. 
as  he  walked  through  the  beautiful  little  residence.  "  No 
wonder  you  forgot  your  American  friends  in  this  sweet 
Bpoi.  One  would  willingly  become  a  hermit  in  such  a  re- 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        307 

treat.  However,"  he  added,  "fair  countess,  I  would  prefer 
sharing  it  with  you." 

"  Thank  you,  my  noble  lord ;  I  have  no  fancy  for  such 
retired  nooks  as  these,  exquisite  as  they  may  be.  It  takes 
a  supernatural  amount  of  wit  to  play  the  agreeable  in  a 
permanent  tete-d-tete.  I  boast  no  such  powers." 

"  Now,  Laura,"  whispered  the  young  man,  as  she  took 
his  arm  and  led  him  into  the  picture-gallery,  thus  affording 
the  lovers  a  moment  of  solitude,  "  let  me  tell  you  one  or 
two  pretty  things,  dear  cousin." 

"  Say  what  you  please ;  but  don't  expect  a  very  gra- 
cious answer,  for  I  am  bent  upon  looking  at  these  fine 
paintings." 

"  Did  Arthur  tell  the  truth,  Helen,  last  evening?"  whis- 
pered the  young  man,  as  he  led  her  to  the  window,  where 
the  curtain  entirely  concealed  them. 

"I  will  not  answer  that  question;  you  know  me  now  as 
well  as  I  know  myself;  perhaps  better." 

"Better?" 

"  Yes ;  because  you  are  wiser  than  I  am,  and  because  I 
live  and  breathe  through  that  mysterious  feeling  which 
binds  me  to  you,  Walter.  Oh,  how  indescribable  it  is !  I 
have  wondered  since  yesterday,  that  I  could  have  existed 
without  it." 

And,  almost  ashamed  of  what  she  had  said,  she  hid  her 
face  in  her  hands. 

"  Dearest,  precious  one  !"  muttered  the  young  man. 

"  This  being  obliged  to  appear  as  a  stranger  to  you  is  ter- 
ribly painful,"  continued  Helen  ;  "and  we  part  so  soon  " 

"  Yes ;  but  for  a  very  short  time.  I  will  meet  you  at 
Interlachen  in  a  few  days ;  and  then  I  return  here  to  sell 
this  house  and  join  you  at  Naples.  After  which,  I  trust, 
we  shall  not  be  separated." 


308  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  God  grant  it  may  be  so  !"  she  replied. 

And  both  walked  into  the  gallery,  where  Laura  had  so 
effectually  entertained  her  cousin,  that  he  had  not  noticed 
the  absence  of  his  sister.  No  one,  of  course,  was  admitted 
that  day  to  the  sanctuary  of  the  golden  wreath. 

The  travellers  returned  to  the  village  ;  and  the  carriage 
having  been  repaired,  the  party  started  for  Berne  in  the 
afternoon.  Walter  remained  with  them  until  the  last  mo- 
ment, and  then  wended  his  solitary  way  toward  the  cottage, 
a  thousand  times  more  desolate  since  the  bright  ray  which 
had  dawned  upon  it  had  vanished. 

"  She  is  gone,  Roger,"  he  said  to  his  faithful  servant, 
•who  opened  the  door  for  him. 

"  Yes,  Master  Walter ;  but  we  will  go  to  her  soon,  for 
she  is  your  own  wife." 

"  But  no  one  knows  that,  my  old  friend ;  and  I  cannot 
claim  her  now." 

"  Well,  well ;  no  matter.  It  will  all  come  right,"  and 
the  old  man  proceeded  to  prepare  every  thing  for  his  mas- 
ter's comfort,  while  Walter  retired  to  the  little  retreat,  to 
dream  of  Helen  and  gaze  upon  that  wreath  which  she  had 
worn,  and  which  so  long  had  been  his  only  joy. 

Poor  lovers !  how  bitterly  you  have  been  ridiculed  ! 
And  still,  wretched  is  the  heart  which  cannot  gather  from 
memory's  treasures  some  episode  of  bygone  days,  when 
it  dwelt  with  delight  upon  a  token  of  love — so  precious, 
BO  valued  then,  and  now  divested  by  time  and  distance  of 
all  its  enchantment  1 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        309 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  travellers  only  remained  two  days  at  Berne. 
The  city,  although  interesting  in  some  respects,  does  not 
possess  sufficient  attractions  to  ween  the  tourists  from  the 
picturesque  beauties  of  the  landscape  which  at  every  step 
charm  the  eye  in  Switzerland.  Accordingly,  on  the  third 
day,  they  started,  with  pleasurable  anticipations,  for  the 
valley  of  the  Aar,  visited  the  Lakes  of  Thun  and  Brienz, 
and  reached  Interlachen  a  few  days  afterward,  enchanted 
with  the  romantic  scenery  of  the  beautiful  valley  through 
•which  the  silvery  stream  rolls  its  waters,  and  upon  which 
the  snow-clad  peaks  of  the  Alps  look  down  in  majestic 
grandeur,  like  the  gigantic  spirits  of  some  unknown 
regions. 

It  was  with  infinite  happiness  that  Helen  arose  on  the 
morning  after  their  arrival.  There  she  would  see  Walter 
again;  and,  unsatisfactory  as  was  her  intercourse  with 
the  young  man  in  the  presence  of  Aunt  Seraph  and  Ro- 
bert, it  was  still  an  inestimable  blessing  to  see  him,  and 
now  and  then  hear  a  word  of  affection  from  his  lips.  But 
Helen's  joy,  like  most  of  the  imperfect  felicities  of  this 
deceptive  world,  was  not  without  alloy. 

Since  that  terrible  shower  to  which  Laura  had  been 
exposed,  the  young  countess  had  had  a  violent  cough,  which 
seemed  to  wear  her  frail  being  and  destroy  all  the  benefit 
which  she  had  derived  from  her  sea-voyage  and  stay  m 
France.  Kind  and  unselfish  as  she  always  was,  Laura 


310  HELEN  LEESON: 

endeavoured  to  shake  off  as  much  as  possible  the  painful 
exhaustion  which  was  perceptible  to  all,  and  which  filled 
her  aunt  with  bitter  anxiety. 

This  unfortunate  change  spread  a  gloom  over  the  whole 
party,  for  Laura  was  the  active  genius,  the  promoter  of 
all  pleasure. 

Robert,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  seemed  to  feel  that 
sorrow  was  about  to  crush  his  hopes ;  and  he  clung  with 
desperate  devotion  to  the  gentle  being  who,  from  childhood, 
had  been  the  star  of  his  life. 

Miss  Marsy  was  most  anxious  to  consult  a  physician  for 
her  niece,  but  to  whom  could  she  apply  in  this  strange 
country  ?  There  could  be  no  scientific  men  in  such  a  small 
place  as  Interlachen.  She  therefore  urged  their  not  re- 
maining in  that  lovely  spot,  where  travellers  generally  lin- 
ger to  admire  the  wonderful  freaks  of  nature. 

That  afternoon  Walter  arrived,  and  relieved  Aunt  Seraph 
of  a  great  weight  of  care  by  informing  her  that  a  friend  of 
his,  a  celebrated  French  physician,  had  travelled  with  him, 
and  that  he  knew  him  to  be  a  most  intelligent  and  agreeable 
man. 

Miss  Marsy  was  partially  reassured  by  the  opinion  Dr. 
Darmont  expressed  of  her  niece's  health ;  but  Walter  in- 
formed Robert  that  the  physician  considered  the  young 
countess  in  a  very  precarious  state,  and  that  the  climate  of 
Switzerland  was  by  no  means  the  proper  one  to  promote 
her  recovery. 

"Then  we  must  not  stay  here  a  day  longer!"  ex- 
claimed the  passionate  young  man.  "Oh,  Walter!"  he 
added,  "I  love  Laura  so  dearly,  it  will  kill  me  if  she  is 
taken  from  us  !  Do  you  think  her  so  very  ill  ?" 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  Dr.  Darmont's  opinion  is,  I 
fear,  a  correct  one.  However,  he  seems  to  think  the  mild 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YOKK  SOCIETY.         311 

atmosphere  r  f  Italy  may  benefit  your  cousin's  health  con- 
siderably." 

"  How  s'iall  I  tell  Helen  ?  No  one  can  manage  it  but 
her.  I  will  take  aunt  and  Laura  out  to  drive,  in  a  few 
moments ;  Helen  is  in  my  parlour,  drawing  a  view  of  the 
Alps ;  will  you  not  go  in  and  communicate  all  this  to  her  ? 
Do,  now,  Walter;  I  cannot  say  it  myself — I  cannot  indeed !" 

"  But  Miss  Leeson  scarcely  knows  me,  Robert.  She 
may  think  it  strange  that  I  should  thus  intrude  upon 
her." 

"  Oh,  no,  she  wont !  Tell  her  I  sent  you  to  look  at  her 
drawing;  she  will  be  quite  flattered.  Now,  go.  No  one 
will  disturb  you,  as  aunt  and  Laura  will  be  out." 

As  may  be  supposed,  there  was  no  reluctance  on  the 
part  of  the  young  man  to  comply  with  his  friend's  wishes. 
Robert  had  given  him  the  number  of  his  parlour,  and  find- 
ing the  door  partly  opened,  he  entered  with  a  noiseless 
step  and  advanced  toward  Helen,  who  stood  near  the  open 
window  gazing  upon  the  landscape,  while  her  unfinished 
sketch  lay  on  the  table  near  her. 

"  Oh  !"  she  muttered,  "it  is  too  sublime  !  I  never  can 
imitate  that.  If  I  could  only  draw  like  Walter !  If  he 
were  only  here  to  guide  my  inexperienced  hand  !" 

"Here  I  am,  Miss  Leeson,"  he  whispered,  "at  your 
orders,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  be  your  most  humble 
adviser." 

"  Oh,  Walter  !  you  were  there — so  near  me — and  I  did 
not  hear  you  come  in  !" 

"  Your  brother  requested  me  to  meet  you  here,  as  you 
had  a  sketch  to  show  me,"  he  said,  in  a  formal  tone,  which, 
though  meant  as  a  joke,  sounded  disagreeably  to  the  young 
girl's  ear. 

"  Will  you  oblige  me  by  shutting  that  door,  Mr.  Grey?" 

27 


312  HELEN  LEESON: 

was  the  answer,  while  Helen  sat  down  to  the  table  and  con- 
tinued to  draw. 

Walter  obeyed,  and  then  stood,  apparently  absorbed  in 
thought.  The  truth  was,  that  he  had  undertaken  a  pain- 
ful mission,  and  he  knew  not  how  to  impart  the  sad  intel- 
ligence 

This  Helen  was  not  aware  of,  and  for  an  instant  an  iron 
link  seemed  to  compress  her  heart.  She  thought  him  cold 
and  indifferent ;  but  the  memory  of  all  he  had  endured  for 
her  sake  recurred  to  her,  and  she  said,  in  a  mild  voice — 
"Walter!" 

The  young  man  turned  from  the  window  and  looked  at 
her. 

"  Will  you  not  sit  here,  near  me,  and  show  me  how  this 
should  be  done  ?" 

He  took  the  chair  by  her  side,  and  looked  over  the 
drawing,  till  she  could  feel  his  hair  gently  touch  her  cheek. 

"  This  is  well,  very  well  done,"  he  said,  while  he 
thought,  "How  shall  I  tell  her  ?" 

"No,  no,  it  is  not,"  said  Helen,  as  she  looked  up  in  his 
face.  "Why  do  you  not  speak  to  me,  Walter?  Have  I 
offended  you?" 

"  Helen,  dearest — best !"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  drew  her 
gently  toward  him. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  I  have  said  or  done  something  which 
has  hurt  your  feelings,"  she  added  ;  "  but  can  I  help  being 
stiff  and  formal  with  you  when  aunt  and  Robert  are  pre- 
sent ?  You  are  not  my  husband,  then  ?" 

"But  I  am  now,"  whispered  the  lover.  "You  have  mis- 
taken me,"  he  added  ;  "  I  never  have  known  any  affection 
but  that  I  bear  you,  and  it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  caprice 
or  alteration — the  very  essence  of  my  existence." 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  call  me  Miss  Leeson,  just  now?" 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  313 

"Because  the  door  was  opened,  and  that,  to  strangers, 
you  are  Miss  Leeson  still." 

"  You  are  right.  Did  I  not  say  you  were  wiser  than  I 
am  ?  Only  think,  we  scarcely  know  each  other  !  I  have 
seen  so  little  of  you,  and  still — " 

"And  still  what,  darling?" 

"  Oh,  no  matter ;  you  know.  But  tell  me  how  you 
thought  of  coming  up  to  this  parlour?" 

In  the  exuberance  of  his  love,  the  young  man  had  for- 
gotten his  promise  to  Robert.  He  said,  hurriedly — 

"  Your  brother  requested  me  to  deliver  a  message — a 
sad  one — to  you.  The  doctor  thinks  your  cousin  quite 
ill ;  and  his  opinion  is,  that  she  should  go  to  Italy  as  soon 
as  possible.  Robert  wishes  you  to  induce  Miss  Marsy  and 
the  countess  to  leave  Switzerland  immediately,  without 
alarming  them." 

"  Is  it  so,  then?  Poor  Laura  !"  muttered  Helen.  "  Oh  ! 
this  is  painful,  indeed !  What !  what  shall  I  do  without 
her?"  and  the  tears  fell  fast  as  she  spoke. 

Walter  knew  too  well  what  acute  sorrow  was,  to  attempt 
to  offer  useless  comfort. 

"God  is  merciful!"  she  added.  "Merciful,  indeed! 
Had  this  terrible  calamity  burst  upon  me  two  weeks  ago, 
it  would  have  killed  me  ;  and  now  I  feel,  that,  with  your 
love,  I  could  outlive  any  agony.  This  will  be  a  dreadful 
blow  for  poor  Aunt  Seraph  !  Oh  !  here  they  are,  returning 
from  their  drive.  I  suppose  Laura  was  too  much  fatigued. 
Go,  Walter,  go  ;  it  would  not  do  for  them  to  find  you  here." 
And  they  parted  as  lovers  part — so  anxious  to  meet  again. 

With  wonderful  shrewdness,  Helen  managed  to  convince 
Miss  Marsy  and  Laura  that  it  was  essential  they  should 
shorten  their  stay  in  Switzerland,  in  order  to  remain  in 
Italy  as  long  as  they  had  at  first  intended.  There  was 


314  HELEN  LEESON: 

no  difficulty  in  persuading  the  young  countess,  who  was 
most  anxious  to  reach  Naples,  and  who  had  insisted  upon 
prolonging  their  visit  to  Interlachen,  principally  to  afford 
her  cousin  an  opportunity  of  seeing  more  of  Walter. 

Accordingly,  the  party  left  for  Friburg  the  next  day. 
From  there,  they  took  the  diligence  to  Lausanne,  and 
reached  Geneva  without  accident.  At  Robert's  request, 
Walter  had  accompanied  them  ;  and,  as  Laura  appeared 
less  complaining,  they  determined  to  take  a  rest  of  a  few 
days. 

Aunt  Seraph  had  become  acQustomed  to  the  society  of 
Mr.  Grey,  as  she  called  him.  She  could  not  help  acknow- 
ledging that  he  was  a  fine  young  man — intellectual  and 
agreeable  at  times  ;  but  so  very  quiet  and  retiring  in  his 
manners;  nothing  like  as  fascinating  as  Gustave  de  Mor- 
nay.  She  could  not  imagine  what  Helen  saw  in  him. 
"For,  Laura,"  added  the  old  lady,  no  longer  able  to  con- 
fine her  remarks  to  her  own  mind,  "  Helen  certainly  admires 
Mr.  Grey;  she  likes  him  exceedingly.  Don't  you  think 

60?" 

"  I  do,  of  course  ;  and  there  is  nothing  very  extraordi- 
nary in  that,  aunt ;  for  Mrs.  Murray  has  been  telling 
Helen  wonders  about  Walter.  She  knew  him  before  she 
saw  him ;  and,  I  believe,  the  old  lady  has  entertained  him 
about  my  pretty  cousin  over  and  over  again.  I  should  not 
wonder  if  they  made  a  match,  after  all." 

"  Oh,  Laura,  how  ridiculous  !  He  is  not  at  all  the  man 
I  would  suppose  Helen  would  fancy." 

"My  dear  aunt,"  said  the  young  countess,  "did  you 
ever  see  a  girl  marry  the  man  you  thought  she  would  fancy  ? 
Here  is  a  case  in  point,"  she  added,  hastily  opening  a  letter 
which  Robert  had  just  brought  her.  "Oh!  guess,  guess, 
both  of  you,  who  is  engaged  ?  But  where  is  Elly  !" 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  315 

Helen  was  summoned. 

"  Who  do  you  think  is  going  to  get  married  ?"  exclaimed 
Laura,  as  her  cousin  came  in. 

"  I  don't  know ;  but  that  letter  is  from  Emma  Grantly." 

"Yes;  but  do  guess,  Aunt  Seraph — try." 

"  I  never  could  guess  any  thing  in  my  life,  dear.  Hero 
is  Mr.  Grey ;  he  may  know  something  about  it." 

"Well,  come;  I  will  tell  you,"  said  Laura — "Emma 
herself." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Helen  ;  "  I  am  delighted  ;  but  who  to  ? 
Mr.  Mac  Tavish?  He  admires  her  so  much!" 

"No;  Herman  Smith!" 

"  I  never  would  have  thought  she  would  have  fancied 
him,"  said  Aunt  Seraph,  while  Laura  burst  out  laughing. 

"  I  told  you  so,  aunty  dear.  What  a  sensible  girl  Emma 
is  !  Herman  will  make  a  capital  husband." 

"  Yes  ;  but  he  has  not  the  means  to  marry.  You  know 
he  was  only  a  clerk  at  your  father's,  Helen,"  interrupted 
Miss  Marsy. 

"Emma  tells  me  that  Mr.  Grantly  has  taken  Herman 
into  partnership  ;  he  entertains  the  highest  opinion  of  him. 
Mrs.  Grantly  is  delighted,  and  they  are  all  pleased,  except 
Mrs.  Amanda,  who  has  had  two  nervous '  headaches  in 
consequence  of  her  niece's  ill-assorted  match,  as  she 
calls  it." 

"  Poor  aunt !"  said  Helen,  with  an  imperceptible  smile. 

"  She  is  too  ridiculous  !"  added  Robert,  laughing.  "Now 
pray,  Walter,  have  you  nothing  to  say  ?  You  are,  indeed, 
a  very  quiet  gentleman." 

"  One  thinks  the  more  for  talking  the  less,  Robert ;  and 
my  thoughts  are  not  always  worth  expressing,"  he  replied, 
with  a  sigh  which  was  re-echoed  in  Helen's  heart. 

That  evening,  after  writing  to  her  friend  to  congratulate 


HELEN  LEESON: 

her  on  her  happy  engagement,  Laura  addressed  a  few  lines 
to  Madame  de  Mornay.  She  had  corresponded  several 
times  with  their  amiable  Paris  friend,  but  had  avoided 
alluding  to  their  last  conversation  regarding  her  son's 
future  prospects.  But  now  she  thought  herself  in  duty 
bound  to  mention  something  of  the  subject  which  she  knew 
would  materially  affect  Madame  de  Mornay 's  plans.  She 
therefore  told  her  that  Helen  had  met  Mr.  Grey  in  Switzer- 
land ;  that  she  had  known  him  at  home,  and  having  travelled 
together,  and  seen  a  great  deal  of  each  other,  she  thought 
there  was  a  probability  of  there  arising  an  attachment 
between  them,  "which  would,"  added  Laura,  "impede  the 
success  of  our  favourite  dream,  dear  lady."  Having  thus 
prepared  Madame  de  Mornay  for  the  coming  event,  the 
young  countess  proceeded  with  the  more  difficult  task  of 
talking  Aunt  Seraph  into  fancying  Walter ;  for  the  old 
lady,  like  most  very  mild  persons,  had  a  spice  of  firmness 
about  her,  which  could  only  be  conquered  by  the  cunning 
graces  of  her  bewitching  niece.  Thus  Laura  had  struggled 
to  obtain  for  her  French  friends,  and  for  Gustave  in  particu- 
lar, an  admission  to  her  aunt's  favour;  and  now  that  they 
were  endowed  with  those  privileges,  she  found  it  equally 
difficult  to  infringe  upon  their  rights  in  Walter's  behalf. 

"When  shall  we  see  you  again,  Mr.  Grey?"  said  the 
young  countess,  as  he  bid  them  farewell  on  the  morning 
of  their  arrival  in  Turin. 

"  Very  soon,  I  hope.  I  will  meet  you  in  Naple,;  in  three 
or  four  weeks." 

"  Not  later — remember !"  added  Laura,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  sadness  very  unusual  to  her. 

Our  travellers  proceeded  to  Genoa,  spent  two  days  in 
visiting  the  city  of  palaces,  and  taking  the  steamboat  from 
there,  arrived  at  Naples  about  the  beginning  of  September. 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YOKK    SOCIETY.  817 

Laura  had  been  considerably  weakened  by  their  hurried 
travelling,  and  several  days  elapsed  before  she  felt  strong 
enough  to  call  upon  the  Marquis  and  Marchioness  di 
Caristi. 

The  countess,  since  her  marriage,  had  corresponded 
very  regularly  with  the  only  relatives  of  her  husband. 
She  spoke  and  wrote  Italian  with  remarkable  accuracy; 
and  through  her  affectionate  letters  Count  Arthur's  aunt 
and  uncle  had  learned  to  appreciate  his  wife.  Their  de- 
sire to  see  her  had  been  expressed  in  the  warmest  terms  of 
interest. 

"  My  sweet  Laura !  My  own  niece !"  exclaimed  the 
old  marquis  and  his  wife,  as  they  welcomed  the  young 
widow  to  the  Villa  Caristi — a  beautiful  residence  on  the* 
Bay  of  Naples. 

"La  Signora  Marsy,  La  Signorina  Leeson,"  added  the 
polite  old  gentleman,  kissing  the  extended  hand  of  each 
lady ;  while  the  marchioness  folded  little  Arthur  in  a  ma- 
ternal embrace,  and  tears  of  sorrow  and  joy  streamed  down 
her  cheeks,  as  she  remarked — 

"How  much  the  child  resembles  his  father,  my  own 
beloved  nephew !" 

Laura  was  much  affected,  and  for  a  while  quite  unable 
to  express  her  gratitude  for  the  heartfelt  greeting  she 
received,  and  Aunt  Seraph  once  more  bitterly  repented  her 
want  of  sagacity  in  not  studying  foreign  languages.  Helen 
understood  Italian,  and  spoke  it  with  moderate  fluency. 

"Now,  my  child,"  said  the  marchioness,  "you  must 
not  think  of  remaining  in  Naples  this  hot  weather.  I 
have  had  apartments  prepared  for  you,  your  aunt,  your 
cousin,  and  Mr.  Leeson,  who  is  travelling  with  you,  T 
believe." 

As  usual,  Robert  had,  what  he  called,  oacked  out  from 


318  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  bore  of  going  to  visit  the  old  people.  Laura,  accord- 
ingly, apologized  for  his  absence. 

Miss  Marsy  was  most  reluctant  to  receive  hospitality 
from  such  complete  strangers.  But  they  were  so  pressing, 
so  vory  kind,  that  Aunt  Seraph  could  not  resist  the  old 
marquis's  gallantry  any  more  than  the  fascinations  of  poor 
Count  Marini,  when,  some  three  years  before,  he  claimed 
the  hand  of  Laura  Elliot. 

It  was,  therefore,  agreed  that  little  Arty,  who  at  once 
seemed  to  assert  his  rights  to  the  affection  of  his  aged  re- 
latives and  to  the  domains  of  Caristi,  should  be  left  as  a 
hostage  to  insure  the  return  of  the  ladies  in  the  afternoon. 

The  marchioness  sent  her  intendant  to  Naples,  to  avoid 
Laura  any  annoyance  of  luggage  or  other  domestic  arrange- 
ments ;  and  at  five  o'clock  the  party,  including  Robert — 
who  had  reluctantly  consented  to  accompany  his  cousin, 
upon  condition  that  his  liberty  should  be  restored  to 
him  after  dinner,  and  that  he  would  retain  his  lodgings  at 
the  hotel — arrived  at  the  villa. 

"  I  could  not  breathe,  Laura,  in  that  aristocratic  atmo- 
sphere," had  said  the  rebellious  Robert ;  "you  were  born  to 
be  a  queen,  but  I  am  one  of  the  sons  of  young  America." 

However,  he  could  not  help  acknowledging,  as  he  rose 
from  table,  and  accompanied  the  ladies  on  a  balcony  from 
which  a  magnificent  view  of  Naples  and  its  matchless  bay 
could  be  seen,  that,  indeed,  the  establishment  was  kept  in 
the  very  best  style,  and  that  Laura's  relatives  were  very 
nice  people — so  genteel,  so  polite.  "After  all,"  he  added, 
"  I  don't  see  why  one  need  be  rude  and  unmannerly  be- 
cause one  claims  the  blessed  rights  of  an  American 
citizen." 

"  The  proof  of  that,  dear  coz,  is,  that  there  are  many 
among  our  countrymen  full  of  refinement,  and  whose  man- 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         319 

ners  would  grace  any  court.  'Tis  but  the  young  worldling 
like  yourself  who  thinks  that  the  solid  goods  of  this  life 
cannot  be  polished  by  elegance  and  intellectual  pursuits." 

"  Laura,  you  are  too  perfect  for  this  wicked  world!  " 

A  violent  cough,  brought  on  by  exposure  to  the  night 
air,  was  the  appalling  answer. 

"  Come  in,  my  daughter,"  said  the  marchioness,  as  she 
wrapped  up  the  young  countess  in  a  warm  shawl. 

The  next  morning  the  old  lady  inquired  of  Helen  whether 
Her  cousin  had  been  suffering  very  long  from  that  violent 
cold. 

Painful  as  was  the  task  of  afflicting  the  kind  friend  who 
had  so  rejoiced  at  seeing  the  wife  of  her  beloved  Arthur, 
Helen  felt  it  her  duty  to  apprise  the  marchioness  of  Laura's 
precarious  state  of  health. 

"  She  must  see  our  physician  immediately,"  was  the  an- 
swer ;  and  a  servant  was  despatched  to  Naples  for  Doctor 
Moriani,  one  of  the  medical  authorities,  and  one  whose  ex- 
perience the  Carlisti  family  had,  unfortunately,  had  occasion 
to  test. 

The  Italian  Esculapius  corroborated  the  opinion  of 
Doctor  Darmont,  and  that  which  Doctor  Clifford  had  ex- 
pressed to  Mrs.  Leeson  before  the  countess  left  New  York. 
She  might  live  many  months,  but  a  violent  cold  could  at 
any  moment  prove  fatal.  She  was  in  the  last  stage  of 
consumption. 

With  a  sensation  of  intense  bitterness,  the  marchioness 
parted  with  the  physician. 

"And  has  she  come  to  us  but  to  die?"  she  muttered; 
"  and  will  she  rest  with  our  four  children,  at  the  Campo 
Santo?  0,  Lord!  thy  decrees  are  inscrutable!" 

Laura,  although  every  precaution  had  been  taken  not  to 
alarm  her,  was  fully  aware  of  her  situation,  but  an  extra^ 


320  HELEN  LEESON: 

ordinary  cheerfulness,  an  unselfish  feeling,  which,  through 
all  her  troubles,  had  considered  no  sacrifice  too  great  for 
the  comfort  of  others,  had  kept  up  her  spirits.  It  was  only 
at  times  that  she  gave  up  to  despair,  and  then  the  outburst 
of  nature's  claims  was  terrific. 

One  morning,  about  two  weeks  after  her  arrival  at  the 
Villa  Caristi,  the  young  countess  sat  near  the  open  window, 
gazing  upon  the  admirable  scenery  which  spread  its  autum- 
nal beauties  before  her.  The  noble  bay,  with  its  girdle  of 
romantic  villas,  the  little  islands  of  Ischia  and  Nisita, 
gems  of  animated  mosaics  detached  from  the  sapphire  of 
the  waters,  spoke  volumes  to  the  poetical  mind  of  the 
sufferer.  There  stood  the  gigantic  Vesuvius,  with  its 
smoking  crater,  like  the  spirit  of  darkness  watching  in  en- 
vious anger  the  enchanting  spots,  resplendent  with  the 
bounty  of  nature  and  art.  And  beyond,  as  though  to  check 
the  pride  of  man  and  silence  the  cravings  of  the  flaming 
destroyer,  could  be  seen  the  cemetery  of  the  Campo  Santo, 
the  land  of  earth's  repose,  where  the  tears  and  joys  of  this 
world  lay  concealed  beneath  the  flowery  beds  of  the  Italian 
clime. 

"  0  land  of  my  beloved !  I  have  come  to  thee  at  last," 
whispered  Laura ;  "  I  have  left  my  home,  my  friends,  to 
lay  my  drooping  head  in  the  grave  with  thee,  my  Arthur ! 
Death  will  be  sweet  when  thy  voice  calls  me  to  the  home 
my  Redeemer  has  prepared  for  me  !  But — but — "  added 
the  young  mother,  as  her  eye  fell  on  the  little  fellow  who 
was  enjoying  his  merry  gambols  with  Nina  in  the  gardens 
of  the  villa,  "  must  I  leave  him,  leave  my  boy  to  others — to 
their  care  and  caresses?  And  who  will  teach  him  to  love 
thee  ?  Oh,  no,  no  !  I  cannot,  I  will  not  abandon  my  child !" 
And  a  passionate  flood  of  tears  burst  from  the  aching 
bosom. 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  321 

"  Laura,  dearest,"  said  Helen,  who  for  a  few  minutes  had 
been  watching  the  patient — "Laura,  what,  what  is  the  mat- 
ter? Are  you  in  pain  ?" 

"  Oh  !  there — there,  Helen ;  my  heart  is  broken  !  1  can- 
not part  with  my  boy,  Helen — I  must  not  die  !" 

"No,  no,  my  darling,"  whispered  the  agitated  girl,  as 
her  tears  fell  fast.  "  God  is  merciful !  He  will  restore 
you  to  us.  Laura,  Laura,"  she  added,  finding  that  words 
could  hot  soothe  her  cousin,  "  shall  I  tell  Father  Bernard 
to  come  up  ?  He  is  walking  in  the  garden  with  Arty." 

"  Yes,  yes,  send  him  to  me  ;  he  alone  can  teach  the  awful 
lesson.  Oh,  my  boy!" 

Shortly  after  her  husband's  death,  Laura  had  become  a 
Catholic,  and  little  Arthur  was  christened,  according  to  his 
father's  request,  a  member  of  his  church.  Miss  Marsy  had 
been  considerably  annoyed  at  her  niece's  conversion,  but 
she  was  too  perfect  a  Christian  to  entertain  in  the  slightest 
degree  those  sectarian  prejudices  which  have  proved  such  a 
curse  to  the  whole  human  flock  the  Divine  Shepherd  claims 
as  his  own,  banishing  with  their  blasting  invectives  that 
meek  and  gentle  charity  which  God  in  his  mercy  granted 
the  exiled  mortal. 

The  young  countess  was  extremely  pious ;  and  as  the 
subject  of  controversy  was  never  alluded  to  between  her- 
self and  her  family,  Aunt  Seraph  could  not  find  fault  with 
a  religion  from  which  her  adopted  child  seemed  to  derive 
strength  and  consolation. 

Father  Bernard  was  one  of  those  blessed  examples  of  a 
good  priest.  Humble  and  indulgent  to  others  in  propor- 
tion as  he  was  austere  to  himself,  possessing  that  essence 
of  charity  which  seeks  the  suffering  soul  to  bring  relief  and 
point  out  to  the  erring  sinner  the  path  of  truth ;  ever  en- 
couraging to  repentance,  and  urging,  as  an  inducement, 


322  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  love,  the  mercy,  of  the  heavenly  Father,  rather  than 
his  wrath  and  justice.  "  Win  by  mild  means,  and  not  by 
fear,"  was  the  motto  of  the  kind  old  man.  Several  times 
he  had  comforted  Laura  in  her  moments  of  despair ;  and 
now  again  he  succeeded  in  soothing  the  troubled  mind. 
After  he  had  sat  about  an  hour  with  the  young  countess, 
he  rose,  adding — "  I  must  finish  my  game  with  Arthur,  in 
the  garden ;"  and  with  a  gentle  wave  of  the  hand  he  left 
the  room. 

"  Have  you  written  to  Walter,  Helen  ?"  asked  Laura, 
after  a  few  minutes  of  meditation  had  elapsed. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  think  he  will  be  here  before  my  letter 
reaches  him.  I  have  a  presentiment  we  shall  see  him  very 
soon." 

"  I  hope  so.  Oh  !  here  is  my  favourite  organ.  Listen, 
Helen.  It  plays  Casta  Diva  so  beautifully,  and  reminds 
me  of  my  days  of  happiness,  when  I  was  at  the  opera  in 
New  York  with  Arthur.  Is  it  not  sweet?  and  is  not  this 
country  too  perfect  ?" 

"Oli,  lovely,  beyond  description!" 

"  There,  the  organ  stops,"  said  Laura.  "  Call  to  Nina 
to  make  it  play  again."  Helen  obeyed,  and  then  resumed 
her  seat  near  her  cousin. 

The  afternoon  passed  away  in  a  cosy  chat  about  home, 
in  which  Aunt  Seraph,  who,  fortunately,  had  had  no  know- 
ledge of  Laura's  violent  grief,  joined  with  infinite  satis- 
faction. She  so  longed  to  return  to  America ! 

Notwithstanding  Helen's  endeavours  to  prepare  her  aunt 
for  the  catastrophe  which,  from  one  day  to  the  other,  might 
blight  all  her  joys,  Miss  Marsy  seemed  unconscious  of  the 
terrible  truth.  She  was  anxious,  as  she  always  had  been, 
about  Laura,  but  entertained  no  dread  of  her  being  taken 
from  her  so  unexpectedly ;  and,  strange  to  say,  she  noticed 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  323 

not  the  sad  change  every  hour  brought  in  the  frail  being 
she  had  tended  with  so  much  care  since  her  infancy. 

As  Helen  had  surmised,  Walter  arrived  in  Naples  two 
days  after  her  letter  (the  first  she  had  written  to  him)  had 
been  despatched.  Laura  had  explained  to  the  marchioness 
the  nature  of  the  young  man's  claims  upon  Helen's  society. 
That  is,  she  spoke  of  the  attachment  existing  between 
them;  and  consequently  the  old  lady  had  extended  her 
hospitality  to  Walter;  and  while  he  shared  Robert's  lodg- 
ings at  Naples,  he  received  an  invitation  to  dine  every  day 
at  the  Villa  Caristi. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  in  to  sit  with  me,  Aunt 
Seraph,"  said  the  countess,  about  a  week  after  Walter's 
arrival,  "  for  I  have  something  to  tell  you  which  I  hope 
will  meet  with  your  approbation." 

"  I  am  quite  prepared  for  your  disclosure,  Laura,  and  I 
suppose  it  is  for  the  best.  He  seems  to  be  a  fine  fellow, 
although — " 

"Don't  add  any  'although'  to  your  opinion,  dearest," 
said  Laura.  "  Helen  is  perfectly  happy,  and  it  is  a  great 
comfort  for  us  to  see  her  marry  such  a  noble  fellow  as 
Walter.  Twice  he  saved  Robert  from  ruin,  and  he  is  de- 
voted to  our  dear  Helen." 

"  Well,  well,  I  am  satisfied." 

"  Say  you  are  delighted,  please." 

"  Well,  I  believe  I  am ;  for,  after  all,  I  much  prefer  her 
marrying  an  American.  Robert  tells  me  he  has  an  old 
wealthy  uncle,  who  will,  most  likely,  leave  him  all  his  pro- 
perty;  and  he  is  a  good  business  man." 

After  coming  to  this  happy  conclusion,  Aunt  Seraph  de- 
termined to  be  very  gracious  to  her  new  nephew,  and  sht, 
did  her  best  to  atone  for  her  former  coldness. 

Robert  was,  of  course,  enchanted ;  and  as  he  expressed 

28 


324  HELEN  LEESOST: 

his  satisfaction  to  Laura,  he  added,  "  Why,  why  can  I  not 
be  loved  too  ?" 

"  You  will,  Robert,  one  of  these  days,  when  I  have  gone 
to  the  land  of  rest,  to  pray  that  wisdom  may  be  granted 
to  you.  There  is  a  noble  little  heart  now  beating  in  New 
York,  which  will,  I  trust,  acquit  my  debt  of  devotion  toward 
you." 

"  Oh  !  I  know  who  you  allude  to  ;  but  that  is  quite  im- 
possible. We  are  friends,  and  cannot  be  any  thing  else  to 
each  other  ;  that  is  very  certain." 

"Nothing  is  certain  in  this  world,  Robert,  but  death!" 

And  as  she  spoke,  Laura  withdrew  her  handkerchief  from 
her  mouth:  it  was  full  of  blood. 

An  exclamation  of  agony  escaped  the  young  man's  lips  ! 

The  lovers  were  walking  in  the  garden.  Walter  had 
just  received  Helen's  letter,  which  had  been  sent  to  him 
from  Berne. 

"Oh,  give  it  to  me,  pray!"  she  said;  "it  is  not  worth 
reading,  indeed." 

"Why  so,  dearest?  A  simple  message  from  you  is 
valuable  to  me ;  how  much  more  precious  this  first-written 
expression  of  your  feelings  !  Let  me  read  it." 

"No,  no;  I  cannot." 

"How  strange,"  he  added,  sadly,  "that  you  should  re 
fuse  to  gratify  me  when  it  would  be  so  easy !" 

The  tone  of  the  appeal  was  irresistible ;  and,  as  they 
entered  one  of  the  bowers,  Helen  opened  the  letter,  which 
she  had  taken  from  Walter  at  the  beginning  of  this  lovers' 
quarrel,  and  returned  it  to  him. 

An  expression  of  intense  pleasure  overspread  his  noble 
countenance  as  he  perused  the  epistle ;  and,  as  he  read  the 
last  words,  with  which,  partly  in  jest  and  partly  in  earnest 
affection,  she  had  closed  the  letter — "Ever  your  loving 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  825 

wife,  Helen  Grey," — he  caught  her  in  his  arms,  whispering 
words  which,  to  us,  would  be  very  uninteresting,  but 
which  sounded  like  music  to  the  young  girl. 

The  joys  of  this  world  are  of  short  duration.  Time, 
that  merciless  consumer,  grants  but  few  of  those  heavenly 
hours  to  its  children. 

As  the  lovers  returned  to  the  villa,  they  met  Nina,  who 
was  running  in  great  haste  toward  the  little  cottage  where 
Father  Bernard  resided. 

"  Madame  is  worse !"  she  cried,  as  she  passed  them. 

With  a  hurried  step  and  a  beating  heart,  Helen  pro- 
ceeded to  her  cousin's  room.  An  expression  of  despair 
burst  from  her  lips  as  she  entered. 

Laura  lay  on  the  couch  near  the  open  window,  senseless. 
Robert  was  kneeling  before  her,  calling  her  by  every  en- 
dearing name,  while  little  Arthur,  in  tears,  kissed  the 
cold  hand,  crying — 

"  Mother  !  mother !  speak  to  Arty  ! — speak  to  your 
pet !" 

Aunt  Seraph  had  gone  out  to  drive  with  the  mar- 
chioness that  afternoon. 

By  the  use  of  some  restoratives,  Helen  and  Walter  suc- 
ceeded in  re  riving  the  young  countess.  She  opened  her 
eyes,  and,  pressing  her  child  to  her  bosom,  she  said,  "  Bless 
you,  my  boy!  Helen,  oh  love  him  for  my  sake.  Walter!" 

"  Here  I  am,  dear  lady,"  was  the  tremulous  answer. 

Father  Bernard  came  in.  Laura  had  received  the  sa- 
crament that  morning.  She  took  the  old  man's  hand,  say- 
ing, "  Pray  for  me,  father,  that  the  struggle  may  not  be 
to 3  great." 

The  holy  man  knelt.  All  followed  his  example.  At 
that  moment,  the  organ  was  heard  in  the  garden. 

"  Send  him  away,"  whispered  Helen  to  Walter. 


326  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  Oh,  no  ;  don't !"  muttered  Laura.  "  It  is  the  voice  of 
the  angels  calling  me  to  heaven  !  Father,  God  is  merci- 
ful !  He  loves  me !"  Then  raising  herself,  by  a  violent 
effort,  she  cast  a  last  look  upon  the  glorious  scenery.  A 
leaf,  blown  away  by  the  evening  breeze,  fell  upon  her 
snowy  garment.  "  Ah  !"'  she  said,  with  an  indescribable 
expression  of  sadness,  as  she  gazed  upon  the  warning  na- 
ture thus  cast  toward  her,  "  the  leaves  are  falling — the 
hour  has  come  !  0  earth !  how  beautiful  thou  art !  but 
far  more  pure  are  the  joys  of  heaven  !  Helen — my  boy — 
aunt,  dear  aunt — farewell !  Arthur,  I  come  !"  And,  as 
the  setting  sun  concealed  its  golden  rays  beyond  the  blue 
horizon,  the  young  countess  fell  back  lifeless,  faithful  to 
her  only  love  ! 

The  noise  of  a  carriage  was  heard  in  the  court ;  a  hur- 
ried step  on  the  stairs  followed.  The  door  was  thrown 
open,  and,  with  a  shriek  of  horror,  Miss  Marsy  rushed  into 
the  room,  and  fell  fainting  at  Laura's  feet. 

Let  us  pause  a  moment.  The  mind,  the  pen,  weary  fast 
in  describing  the  tortures  of  our  afflicted  nature,  for  many 
have  drooped  beneath  the  heavy  burden,  and  few  can  think 
of  such  sorrows  unmoved. 

Aunt  Seraph  was  carried  to  her  apartment,  and  restored 
to  consciousness  and  pain.  'Tis  when  sleep  or  the  priva- 
tion of  our  senses  has  thrown  a  blank  over  our  existence, 
and  that  we  awake  to  the  awful  reality,  that  the  mind 
stares  in  wild  bewilderment  upon  its  broken  joys.  Oh ! 
the  anguish  is  terrific — dark,  gloomy,  beyond  expression  ! 

Thus  felt  poor  Aunt  Seraph,  as  she  started  from  her  bed 
and  insisted  upon  going  into  her  niece's  room. 

"When  you  are  calm,  dearest,"  said  Helen,  "then  you 
may  see  her.  Think  of  little  Arthur,  aunt ;  think  how 
merciful  God  has  been,  to  leave  you  the  darling  boy." 


A   PEEP   AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  327 

"  No,  no,  there  is  no  mercy  !  there  are  no  compensations 
to  such  agony !  Oh  !  I  am  wearied  !  I  am  exhausted  !" 

When  all  efforts  to  soothe  the  wretched  one  proved  ineffec- 
tual, the  marchioness,  whose  grief  was  expressed  in  silent 
tears,  requested  that  Miss  Marsy  would  see  her. 

"  She  cannot  understand  me,  but  let  me  see  her,"  she 
said,  to  Helen. 

Aunt  Seraph,  whose  meek  spirit  for  the  first  time  rebelled 
against  the  bitterness  of  the  decree,  had  refused  to  receive 
any  one  but  Helen.  However,  she  could  not  reject  the 
sympathy  of  the  friend  who  had  given  so  many  proofs  of 
affection  and  devotion.  The  marchioness  came  in  and  ad- 
vanced toward  the  sufferer,  who  sat  the  statue  of  despair, 
the  burning  eye  unmoistened  by  a  single  tear.  She  took 
her  hand  and  led  her  to  the  window.  The  waning  beams 
of  twilight  were  still  glimmering. 

The  marchioness  pointed  to  the  cemetery,  and  held  up 
her  four  fingers  with  such  an  expression  of  sorrow,  that  it 
spoke  volumes  to  the  aching  heart.  Aunt  Seraph  threw 
herself  into  the  old  lady's  arms,  and  a  flood  of  tears  brought 
relief  to  her  intense  agony. 


28* 


828  HELEN   LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Miss  MARSY  was  very  reluctant  to  allow  the  remains  of 
ner  niece  to  be  deposited  at  the  cemetery  of  the  Campo 
Santo ;  but  Laura  had  expressed  her  earnest  wish  on  the 
subject  so  often,  that  Helen  finally  prevailed  upon  her  aunt 
to  make  no  further  objection.  Accordingly,  two  days  after 
the  melancholy  events  which  are  here  described  had  oc- 
curred, all  that  earth  could  claim  of  the  young  creature 
who  has  flitted  through  this  narrative  like  a  spirit  of  peace 
and  love,  was  borne  to  its  last  home,  followed  by  the  old 
marquis,  the  disconsolate  Robert,  and  Walter  Grey.  The 
funeral  service  was  performed  at  the  chapel  by  good  Father 
Bernard,  and  the  vault  of  the  Caristi  family  received  within 
its  bosom  the  pale  flower  of  America.  Scarce  nineteen 
summers  had  dawned  upon  it !  "  She  sleeps  near  her 
lover,  and  their  spirits  dwell  in  heaven !" 

There  being  no  longer  any  object  for  the  travellers  to 
prolong  their  stay  in  Italy,  all  were  anxious  to  return  to 
New  York.  Gratitude  for  the  kind  welcome  they  had  re- 
ceived from  Count  Arthur's  relatives  alone  induced  them 
to  remain  one  week  after  Laura's  death  at  the  villa. 

The  marquis  and  his  wife  were  most  anxious  to  keep  little 
Arty,  the  child  being  the  sole  heir  to  their  estates ;  but  Laura 
had  obtained  a  solemn  promise  from  her  husband  that  their 
child  should  be  brought  up  as  an  American,  and  his  aunt 
and  uncle,  tutored  in  the  school  of  adversity,  consented  to 
par*  with  the  little  one,  who  would  have  proved  such  a 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         329 

blessing  in  their  declining  age.  "  You  have  the  hest  right 
to  him,  Helen,  or  rather  Miss  Marsy  has,"  said  the  old 
lady,  as  she  folded  the  weeping  girl  in  a  maternal  em- 
brace. "  Farewell !  Think  of  us,  sometimes.  God  bless 
you,  my  dear  child !" 

Aunt  Seraph's  parting  with  the  marchioness  was  most 
affectionate.  Since  their  sympathetic  communication  on 
the  evening  of  Laura's  death,  there  seemed  to  exist  a  strong 
link  of  friendship  between  the  sufferers.  "And,  then," 
thought  Aunt  Seraph,  "  she  is  my  Laura's,  my  poor  Ar- 
thur's, relation." 

The  travellers  took  leave  of  the  kind  hostess  with  regret, 
and  embarked  at  Naples  for  Marseilles. 

As  the  steamboat  wended  its  way  through  the  bay, 
Helen  stood  at  the  stern,  leaning  on  Walter's  arm. 

She  cast  a  farewell  look  of  admiration  upon  the  exquisite 
landscape.  There  rose  the  noble  city,  with  its  towering 
spires,  like  a  queen,  in  the  midst  of  its  enchanting  environs. 
These  were  studded  with  antique  ruins,  turreted  castles, 
and  smiling  villas,  among  which  could  be  distinguished 
the  Villa  Caristi,  partially  concealed  in  its  gardens  and 
bowers.  Long  did  the  young  girl  gaze  upon  the  spot  which 
the  late  melancholy  events  had  endeared  to  her.  There, 
but  two  weeks  ago,  she  roamed  about  with  the  loved  one ; 
there  the  last  rays  of  the  bright  spirit  had  beamed  upon 
those  to  whom  she  was  so  dear ;  and  as  Helen's  eye  turned 
toward  the  cemetery,  she  added — "  There,  amid  those  cold 
monuments  of  the  sacred  land,  the  angel  rests  in  death ! 
Oh,  Walter  !  how  sad  this  world  is  !" 

"Yes,  but  she  is  happy;  hers  is  a  joy  without  alloy." 

"I  hope  so,"  she  replied,  and  then  went  down  to  the 
cabin  in  search  of  her  aunt.  Miss  Marsy  sat  in  her  state- 
room, with  little  Arthur  on  her  lap ;  and  while  the  child 


380  HELEN  LEESON: 

seemed  absorbed  in  the  satisfaction  which  a  new  picture- 
book  afforded,  the  tears  fell  fast  on  the  golden  curls  of  the 
orphan  boy. 

Helen  spoke  not,  but  knelt  near  the  mourner,  resting  her 
head  on  her  shoulder.  This  was  Laura's  favourite  caress, 
and  for  awhile  Miss  Marsy  sobbed  aloud.  But  gradually, 
the  violence  of  her  sorrow  subsided,  as  the  dark  cloud  sails 
through  the  troubled  heavens,  and  gives  place  to  the  azure 
tinge  of  the  clear  sky !  Aunt  Seraph  kissed  the  boy ;  and 
pressing  her  lips  on  Helen's  brow,  she  muttered — "Yes, 
God  is  merciful !" 

The  party  reached  Marseilles  without  accident,  and  a 
few  days  more  brought  them  to  Paris.  It  was  with  a  sad 
heart  that  poor  Aunt  Seraph  revisited  the  great  capital, 
where  every  thing  reminded  her  more  vividly  than  ever  of 
the  immense  loss  she  had  met  with.  Madame  de  Mornay 
called  on  her  American  friends  as  soon  as  she  heard  of  their 
arrival,  but  Miss  Marsy  could  not  see  her.  Laura  had 
written  to  Gustave's  mother,  to  announce  Helen's  engage- 
ment ;  and  when  she  came  in  to  receive  the  visitor,  Madame 
de  Mornay  kissed  her  affectionately,  saying — 

"  I  had  hoped  that  you  would  have  become  my  daughter, 
Helen ;  but,  nevertheless,  I  must  congi-atulate  you  on  your 
happy  choice.  Mr.  Grey  is  well  calculated,  I  believe,  to 
insure  a  woman's  happiness.  And  perhaps,"  she  added, 
"you  would  not  have  been  satisfied  away  from  your  family." 

"  I  should  have  considered  myself  most  fortunate  to  be 
blessed  with  such  a  mother  as  you,  dear  madame ;  but  I 
trust  that  it  is  all  for  the  best,  and  that  Providence  will 
grant  you  and  M.  de  Mornay  the  blessings  you  so  well 
deserve." 

After  this,  the  conversation  ran  entirely  on  Laura,  her 
many  perfections — a  favorite  theme  with  both  ladies. 


A    PEEP   AT    NETV  YORK    SOCIETY.  331 

The  viscount  called  in  the  evening,  and  Helen,  who  had 
/omewhat  dreaded  the  meeting,  could  not  detect  the  slight- 
est change  in  his  cordial  manner. 

"What  a  noble  fellow!"  she  thought.  "Oh!  if  he 
could  only  marry  Blanche  !" 

Of  course,  Helen  saw  a  great  deal  of  Madame  de  Cerny's 
daughters,  who  were  attentive,  and  full  of  sympathy :  and 
it  was  with  regret  that  she  parted  with  her  friends,  with 
the  prospect  of  never  meeting  them  again. 

"When  you  get  married,  Blanche,"  whispered  Helen  as 
she  watched  the  change  in  the  young  girl's  countenance, 
"  you  must  make  us  a  visit  in  America ;  your  brother  is 
such  an  admirer  of  our  country.  I  shall  see  him  this  winter 
in  New  York." 

"  Oh  !  I  shall  never  marry,  Helen — never  !" 

"  Don't  say  that,  dear ;  such  perfections  as  yours  are 
dot  doomed  to  remain  unappreciated.  I  expect  to  see  you 
one  of  these  days  Madame  de — " 

Blanche's  little  hand  gently  impeded  the  utterance  of 
t  name  the  very  mention  of  which  made  her  heart  flutter. 

They  parted,  and  the  next  day  the  travellers  reached 
cJalais. 

Helen  had  seen  very  little  of  Walter  since  they  had  left 
Naples.  She  was  entirely  devoted  to  her  aunt,  and  Ro- 
bert's spirits  were  so  wretched,  that  his  friend  felt  how 
essential  his  society  was  to  the  afflicted  young  man,  who  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  seemed  to  droop  under  the  burden 
of  care  which  his  cousin's  death  had  brought  upon  him. 
.Robert's  neglected  education,  dissipated  habits,  and  reckless 
disposition  had  ill  fitted  him  for  the  struggles  of  this  world, 
and  when  the  time  came  he  was  untaught,  unarmed  to 
wrestle  with  adversity. 

Laura  had  been  his   only  love,  and   now,  that   death 


332  HELEN    LEESuN: 

had  extinguished  the  light  of  his  days,  all  was  dark- 
ness within.  Alas !  for  those  who  never  have  sought 
the  unextinguishable  ray  which  springs  from  a  higher 
source ! 

On  the  evening  of  their  arrival  in  Calais,  our  party  met 
n  a  small  private  parlour  appropriated  to  their  use.  After 
tea,  Miss  Marsy  retired  to  her  room,  and  Robert  went  out 
to  smoke.  Helen  sat  on  a  sofa  placed  in  front  of  a  door 
which  led  into  an  adjoining  apartment,  but  which  was  closed 
for  the  occasion. 

Walter,  who  had  been  reading  the  paper,  rose  and  stood 
near  her. 

"You  look  tired,  my  darling,"  he  whispered;  "would 
it  not  be  better  for  you  to  retire?  Although,"  he  added, 
"  it  is  a  rare  pleasure  for  me  to  have  your  sweet  society 
now.  Oh  !  how  I  shall  enjoy  it  when  you  are  mine." 

At  that  moment  a  noise  was  heard  on  the  other  side  of 
the  door.  Helen,  feeling  a  certain  delicacy  about  thus 
listening,  attempted  to  rise,  but  Walter,  unwilling  to  re- 
linquish her  company  so  soon,  put  his  arm  around  her 
waist  and  obliged  her  to  remain.  Both  were  silent  for 
a  few  moments  while  the  following  dialogue  was  going 
on : — 

"  I  tell  you  once  for  all,  that  I  must  be  presented  to  the 
queen  this  season.  If  Lady  Gower  refuses  to  do  me  that 
favor,  I  will  apply  to  another  of  your  aristocratic  relatives, 
Sir  Archibald." 

"  Let  me  go,  Walter,"  whispered  Helen.  "  It  is  Cora's 
voice  ;  I  cannot  hear  more." 

But  still  he  detained  her  on  the  sofa. 

"Yes,"  added  the  exasperated  spouse,  "you  are  the 
most  unkind,  unjust  man  in  the  universe ;  and  since  you 
Lave  heard  of  Helen  Leeson's  engagement  with  that  ridicu- 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK   SOCIETY.  333 

lous  protege  of  Mrs.  Murray's,  you  are  perfectly  insup- 
portable. What  a  fool  I  was  to  trust  myself  and  my 
hundred  thousand  dollars  to  such  a  man  as  you  are  !" 

"  Oh  !  would  that  I  had  never  thought  of  you,  madam  ! 
Would  that  I  had  left  for  England  when  Helen  refused  to 
be  mine,"  he  added,  with  emotion. 

"  So  she  refused  you,  did  she  ?  You  never  boasted  of 
that,  Sir  Archibald.  Well,  well;  she  was  wise,  after  all." 

"For  Heaven's  sake  let  me  go,"  said  Helen. 

"Yes,"  answered  Walter,  with  a  smile;  "for  we  are 
in  pretty  bad  company.  Poor  fellow!  he  has  made  a 
miserable  bargain.  Only  think,  Helen,"  he  added,  "if 
you  had  not  been  compelled  by  circumstances  to  say  no, 
you  might  have  been  Lady  Courtnay!" 

"  Do  I  deserve  this  ?"  she*  said,  with  more  emotion  than 
she  wished  to  betray. 

"  Forgive  me,  Elly ;  for  one  instant  my  evil  genius 
whispered  that  perhaps  you  regretted  Sir  Archibald." 

"  Walter,  if  you  had  studied  this  poor  heart,"  Helen  said, 
with  sadness,  "  you  never  would  have  given  birth  to  the 
thought  which  sounded  so  harshly  from  your  lips  just  now. 
You  would  have  seen  that  no  love  save  yours  had  ever 
reigned  within  it." 

"  I  believe  it.  Oh,  do  not  go — not  yet !  Say  you  have 
forgiven  me,  darling !  Tell  me  once  more  that  you  love 
me!" 

"  No,  no,  sir  ;  you  deserve  no  such  favour.     I  have  for 
given  you,  but  I  will  not  say  I  love  you."     And  she  ran 
out  of  the  room. 

Our  friends  travelled  through  England  without  making 
any  stay  in  London,  and  arrived  in  Liverpool  the  day  be- 
fore the  departure  of  the  steamer  Atlantic.  Their  trip 
across  the  great  ocean  was  short,  and  as  agreeable  as  cir- 


384  HELEN  LEESON: 

cumstances  would  allow.  The  lovers,  after  their  conversa- 
tion in  the  hotel  at  Calais,  had  had  little  opportunity  of 
being  together,  as  both  had  resumed  their  duties  toward 
poor  Aunt  Seraph  and  the  dejected  Robert.  Once  or 
twice  only  in  the  evening  they  had  taken  a  solitary  walk 
on  deck,  and  then  Helen  watched  the  sparkling  foam  as  it 
emerged  in  boisterous  violence  from  beneath  the  great 
paddles  ;  or  she  stood  at  the  stern,  gazing  upon  the  snowy 
stream  of  diamonds  which  the  vessel  left  in  its  train. 

"Would  that  the  memory  of  the  past  could  be  as  pure, 
as  bright  as  that  streak  of  light !"  she  said.  "  Would  that 
our  actions  could  shine  with  such  brilliancy  as  this,  and 
that  no  dark  spots  were  visible  in  the  retrospection  of  our 
bygone  days !  Walter,  I  often  think  of  the  immense  re- 
sponsibility Providence  places  In  our  hands  as  free  agents. 
How  difficult  to  follow  the  inspirations  of  duty ! — how  ex- 
hausting the  struggle  !" 

"Yes,"  he  replied;  "and  impossible  it  would  be,  were  it 
not  for  those  stars  of  grace  which  guide  the  wanderer 
through  the  dark  road  of  life.  Happy  are  those  who  can 
see  the  vision  and  understand  its  value  !" 

The  steamer  arrived  in  New  York  in  the  first  week  of 
November  ;  and,  after  being  welcomed  by  many  friends  as 
they  landed,  our  party  proceeded  to  Staten  Island,  where 
Mrs.  Leeson  and  Anna  were  anxiously  expecting  them: 

Alice  Irving  was  there  also,  and  her  cheerfulness  greatly 
contributed  to  diminish  the  gloom  of  the  sad  meeting. 

But  many  days  passed  before  Aunt  Seraph  felt  able  to 
enjoy  the  delightful  home  feeling  which  she  had  so  often 
sighed  for  when  abroad  ;  and  Robert,  incapable  of  the 
slightest  exertion,  gave  up  to  discouragement  and  despair. 

Herman  Smith,  who  was  married  to  our  sweet  friend 
Emma  Grantly  two  weeks  after  the  return  of  the  travel- 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  335 

lers,  spoke  seriously  to  the  young  man,  of  the  necessity 
of  exerting  himself  for  his  mother's  sake,  and  kindly 
offered  him  a  situation  as  clerk  in  Mr.  Grantly's  counting- 
house. 

"  Would  you  have  me  degrade  myself?"  was  the  thought- 
less, silly  answer. 

IJerman's  friendship  stood  the  test  with  noble  patience. 

"  I  merely  offer  you,  my  dear  fellow,  what  I  received 
from  your  father  for  many  years — what  I  would  still  be 
receiving  from  aaother,  had  not  a  very  undeserved  happi- 
ness fallen  to  my  lot." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  you  are  right.  Pardon  me,  Herman  ;  I  am 
mad  sometimes.  Yes,  I  accept  the  situation  ;  but  you  will 
have  to  be  indulgent,  for  I  am  a  poor  hand  at  business  or 
any  thing  else.  Oh,  if  I  had  been  a  different  man,  per- 
haps she  might  have  loved  me  !" 

Happy  to  have  gained  his  point,  Herman  succeeded  in 
obtaining  from  the  wayward  young  man  the  promise  that 
he  would  be  regular  in  his  attendance  at  the  counting- 
house  ;  and,  after  a  few  weeks,  he  saw,  with  infinite  satis- 
faction, that  there  was  a  decided  change  for  the  better  in 
his  friend's  spirits. 

Not  so  with  .Aunt  Seraph.  The  blow  had  broken  the 
already  lacerated  heart ;  but,  as  usual,  her  meek  and  self- 
sacrificing  nature  bore  the  trial  with  calm  resignation ;  and 
she  found  her  only  comfort  in  the  caresses  of  the  little  one, 
who  seemed,  as  Helen  had  said,  left  to  soothe  the  burning 
sorrow. 

"Matilda,"  said  Miss  Marsy  to  her  sister,  as  they  sat 
together,  about  two  weeks  after  their  arrival  at  Allbreeze, 
"  I  hope  Helen  will  be  married  before  long.  I  see  no 
reason  for  them  to  wait.  Why  should  they  not  be  happy 
at  once  ?  This. life  is  so  short,  and  so  full  of  bitterness!" 

29 


336  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  I  don't  know  what  arrangements  Walter  has  made," 
replied  Mrs.  Leeson.  "  We  had  better  trust  entirely  to 
his  judgment.  What  a  treasure  he  is,  and  how  thankful 
I  feel  for  this  new  favour  of  divine  Providence  !" 

"  He  is,  indeed,  a  gem,"  said  Aunt  Seraph,  whose  de- 
votion to  the  young  man  had  increased  in  proportion  to 
the  reluctance  with  which  she  had  at  first  admitted  him  to 
her  friendship.  Miss  Marsy  sought  the  earliest  opportu- 
nity of  speaking  to  Helen  about  her  marriage. 

"  Have  you  fixed  upon  any  time,  dear  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Walter  was  anxious  that  it  should  take  place  imme- 
diately, but  I  thought  the  spring  would  be  a  more  proper 
time." 

"You  are  wrong.  My  advice  is,  that  you  should  be 
married  very  soon — say,  in  three  weeks.  The  ceremony 
must  take  place  here,  of  course  ;  after  which  you  will  en- 
joy a  little  trip  of  a  few  days  ;  and  this  winter  you  can 
spend  in  my  house  in  New  York,  or  else  out  here  with  your 
mother  and  myself." 

That  afternoon,  as  the  lovers  took  their  walk  through 
the  grounds,  Walter  spoke  a  great  deal  of  his  uncle,  who 
had  just  returned  from  Canada. 

"You  have  no  idea  how  anxious  he  is  to  see  you,  Elly," 
he  said;  "with  Mrs.  Leeson's  permission,  I  will  bring  him 
down  to-morrow." 

"1  shall  be  most  happy  to  make  your  uncle's  ac- 
quaintance," she  replied;  "but  had  he  no  knowledge 
of  the  painful  circumstances  which  made  our  fathers 
enemies?" 

"  I  believe  not ;  at  least  he  never  knew  all ;  and  he  has 
heard  so  much  of  your  perfections,  that  he  thinks  me  a 
lucky  fellow,  and  wonders  that  I  can  live  six  long  months 
deprived  of  my  treasure." 


A   PEEP    AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  337 

"Walter — "  said  the  young  girl;  then,  blushing,  she 
hesitated. 

"  What,  dearest  ?" 

"  Aunt  Seraph  seems  to  think  we  had  better  not  wait 
until  the  spring,"  she  added,  in  a  hurried  manner,  as  she 
turned  to  pluck  a  rose — one  of  the  last  whose  charms 
had  bid  defiance  to  the  cold  autumnal  blast. 

We  need  not  pause  to  express  his  joy  and  words  of 
gratitude.  It  was  agreed  that  they  should  be  married 
on  the  tenth  of  December,  and  leave  the  same  day  for 
Washington. 

"  But  will  it  not  be  very  hard  for  you  to  come  over  here 
every  day  in  winter?"  said  Helen.  "You  know  our  meana 
will  not  allow  us  to  go  to  housekeeping  until  next  year,  and 
mother  is  so  happy  to  keep  us  with  her." 

"  How  can  you  suppose  any  sacrifice  too  great  to  win 
such  a  prize?"  he  replied. 

While  the  preparations  for  Helen's  wedding  were  going 
on  at  the  old  place,  and  Mrs.  Boget  is  in  great  anxiety 
about  the  success  of  her  cakes  and  jellies,  let  us  take  a 
trip  up  town  in  search  of  our  quondam  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances. Among  the  former  we  can  certainly  mention  Mrs. 
Murray.  She  was  sitting  in  the  library,  reading  a  note 
from  Mrs.  Leeson — an  invitation  to  her  daughter's  wedding. 
It  was  five  o'clock. 

"At  last  the  dear  friend  will  be  happy,"  she  muttered, 
•'  and  my  debt  of  gratitude  acquitted,  for  /  certainly  con- 
tributed to  this  happy  end ;  though  I  would  have  given 
any  thing  if  George  had  married  Helen.  Perhaps  it  is  all 
for  the  best.  He  fancies  the  little  Grace,  but  she  is  so 
young !"  As  Mrs.  Murray  finished  this  soliloquy,  the  bell 
rang,  and  her  son  came  in,  followed  by  Walter. 

"My  dear  boy,"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  "  how  delighted 


388  HELEN  LEESON: 

I  am  to  see  you,  although  I  would  not  have  presumed  tt 
ask  you  to  dinner,  knowing  that  so  many  attractions  await 
you  at  Allbreeze." 

"So  I  thought,"  replied  George  Murray;  "but  this 
gentleman  invited  himself,  and,  of  course,  I  was  enchanted ; 
for  I  have  scarcely  had  time  to  ask  him  what  he  thinks  of 
that  beautiful  sex  he  used  to  rail  against  so  vehemently  last 
winter." 

"  Did  I,  George  ?  Could  I  have  been  so  rude  ?  I  was 
blind  then." 

"And  now,  your  eyes  are  wide  open,  and  you  can  see- 
the treasure  you  have  won,  sly  fellow  !" 

"Ah,  my  sweet  Grace,  is  that  you?"  said  Mrs.  Murray, 
as  the  timid  girl  came  in.  "  I  have  not  cafcght  a  glimpse 
of  you  since  my  return  to  town,  and  actually  had  to  send 
for  you  to  come  and  see  me.  This  poor  George  was 
quite  gloomy  without  his  playmate.  Let  me  introduce  you 
to  Mr.  Grey — my  son  Walter,  of  whom  you  have  heard 
me  speak." 

"  Mr.  Grey  is  doubly  entitled  to  my  esteem,"  re- 
plied Miss  Orland — "  as  your  friend,  and  for  Helen's  sake." 

"  I  am  most  happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,"  an- 
swered Walter,  bowing ;  "  Miss  Leeson  has  mentioned  your 
name  frequently  to  me." 

Dinner  was  announced,  and  as  the  company  left  tho 
library,  the  young  man  whispered  to  his  friend — 

"  I  see  something,  George,  don't  you?" 

"Perhaps  I  do,"  was  the  reply. 

Let  us  leave  the  happy  party,  and,  with  a  noiseless  step, 
enter  Grantly  Hall,  where  the  proud  hostess  is  enter- 
taining a  select  party  composed  of  Mrs.  Seyton,  Miss 
Elvington,  Marvell,  and  Mac  Tavish,  all  about  the  same  in 
mind  and  appearance  as  when  we  left  them  a  few  months  ago. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         339 

We  need  not  say  that  Mrs.  Grantly's  ambition  had  suffered 
two  death-blows  in  the  extraordinary  matches  of  her  nieces. 
She  had  scarcely  spoken  to  Emma  after  she  heard  of  her 
engagement  with  Herman,  and  consoled  herself  with  the 
thought  that  the  brilliant  Viscount  de  Mornay  would  become 
her  nephew.  But  when  that  illusion  was  destroyed,  and 
Helen's  choice  was  announced,  Mrs.  Amanda  gave  up  to 
despair,  and  was  loud  in  her  disapprobation  of  the  rash  step 
her  niece  was  about  to  take.  The  wise  axiom  of  keeping 
family  difficulties  to  one's  own  immediate  domestic  circle, 
which  Napoleon  was  wont  to  recommend  to  his  sisters  in 
their  petty  quarrels,  was  one  unpractised  by  the  lady  of 
fashion  ;  in  fact,  she  had  no  domestic  circle.  Mr.  Grantly 
had  long  since  Expressed  his  aversion  for  all  such  discus- 
sions, and  his  resolution  not  to  interfere  in  matters  which 
he  did  not  consider  within  his  family  jurisdiction ;  conse- 
quently, the  fine  lady's  irritation,  particularly  since  her 
brother's  disgraceful  failure,  (as  she  termed  the  calamity,) 
knew  no  bounds ;  and,  Mr.  Grantly  being  in  Washington, 
she  had  invited  the  above-mentioned  guests,  we  are  sorry 
to  say,  principally  to  give  vent  to  her  long-suppressed  ire 
against  the  unfortunate  combination  of  circumstances  which 
had,  of  late,  caused  her  pride  such  a  severe  twinge. 

And  why  was  our  friend  Mac  Tavish  included  in  the 
party  ?  Marvell,  although  entitled  to  our  esteem,  was,  we 
know,  compelled  by  his  social  duties  to  mingle  with  many 
whom  he  did  not  always  admire ;  and  an  opinion  judiciously 
emitted  by  the  gentleman  of  fashion  had  saved  more  than 
one  tottering  reputation.  Marvell's,  "  I  think  not,'  was 
all-powerful.  Even  Mrs.  Grantly  was  forced  to  respect  it; 
for  she  had  a  positive  interest  in  sparing  the  beau,  without 
whom  her  fetes  never  would  have  acquired  their  unrivalled 
reputation  in  the  beau  monde. 

29* 


340  HELEN  LEESON: 

But  why  was  Eric  one  of  that  uncharitable  set  ?  You 
have,  dear  readers,  heard  of  those  who  are  upright,  ho- 
nourable, all  that  is  good  and  noble,  when  left  to  their  own 
inspirations,  but,  like  the  reed  in  the  storm,  have  no 
strength  to  bear  the  evil  blast.  It  bends,  but  breaks  not ; 
and,  when  the  sun  has  bid  the  tempest  speed  far  away,  the 
plant  raises  its  feeble  head  and  stands  erect  once  more. 
Thus  it  was  with  the  young  Scotchman.  Having  sought, 
in  vain,  for  a  sensible  woman,  he  had  given  up  in  despair; 
and,  being  fond  of  ladies'  society,  he  thought  himself  com- 
pelled to  put  up  with  the  borrowed  airs  and  graces  of  those 
whom  fate  had  thrown  in  his  path,  too  thoughtless  to  seek 
others  elsewhere.  He  had  thus  gradually  been  drawn  into 
Mrs.  Grantly's  coterie,  much  to  Emma's  regret,  who  bore 
the  young  man  a  sincere  regard  and  a  slight  gratitude  for 
the  admiration  he  had  expressed  in  the  early  part  of  their 
acquaintance.  But  Emma,  like  our  poor  Laura,  was  one 
of  the  benignant  manoeuverers  of  this  world,  and  she  had 
planned  in  her  own  pure  mind  a  little  trap  for  insuring  the 
happiness  of  her  friend  Eric.  We  will  allude  to  this 
later.  Let  us  return  to  the  dinner-party,  where  the 
foaming  Heidsick  was  calling  forth  volleys  of  sparkling 
wit. 

"I  hear  Miss  Leeson  is  to  be  married  next  week, 
Mrs.  Grantly,"  said  Mrs.  Seyton.  "  Who  is  this  Mr. 
Grey  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  indeed.  Some  one  they  met  abroad,  I 
believe." 

"/know,"  interposed  Marvell,  not  pretending  to  notice 
the  disdainful  smile  of  the  lady.  "  Walter  Grey  is  as  fine 
a  fellow  as  I  ever  met  with  anywhere." 

"  Yes,"  added  Mac  Tavish — "  a  perfect  gentleman  in 
every  respect." 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         341 

"And  a  very  handsome  man,"  said  Miss  Elvington.  "I 
Baw  him  at  Maret's  yesterday,  t  suppose  he  was  making 
some  purchases  for  his  lady-love.  But  surely  you  must 
have  seen  him,  Mrs.  Grantly?" 

"  I  have  not,  really.  He  called  here  with  Helen  some 
time  ago.  I  was  out ;  and  I  have  been  to  Allbreeze  but  once 
this  fall.  Mr.  Grey  is  not  rich,  they  say — in  no  business — 
his  family  unknown." 

"  You  are  mistaken  there,  my  dear  madam,"  said  Mar- 
vell.  "  Walter's  uncle,  Mr.  Emerson  Grey,  is  one  of  our 
wealthy  citizens,  not  at  all  fashionable,  but  perfectly  re- 
spectable. He  is  an  old  bachelor,  and  passionately  fond 
of  his  only  nephew.  Walter  has  no  other  relatives." 

"  Ah  !  so  much  the  better.  I  have  a  perfect  horror  of 
a  string  of  parvenu  cousins ;  one  never  knows  what  to  do 
with  them." 

"  So  Olivia  was  telling  me,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Seyton. 
"  It  appears  Mr.  Dobbins's  sister,  a  Mrs.  Gruff,  with  three 
grown-up  daughters,  has  come  to  live  in  New  York,  and 
she  is  perfectly  distressed.  What  will  be  done  with  those 
three  Misses  Gruff — Betsy,  Lizzy,  and  Eleanor  ?"  Upon 
which,  Mrs.  Seyton  burst  out  laughing,  and  all,  except 
Marvell,  joined  in  her  mirth. 

"  What  an  imprudent  person  you  are,  Mrs.  Seyton  !" 
said  Harry,  very  demurely.  "  How  do  you  know  whether 
Mac  Tavish  or  I  do  not  entertain  a  tender  feeling  for  one 
of  those  ladies?" 

"  Oh  !  that  would  be  quite  impossible ;  you  could  not 
fancy  a  girl  with  such  a  name."  , 

"Why  not?  They  are  sweetly  pretty,  fresh  sixteen, 
eighteen ;  that  is,  the  two  who  might  call  upon  Mrs.  Dob- 
bins for  protection  next  winter.  But,  I  dare  say,  they. will 
be  admitted  into  society  without  her  assistance.  Poor 


342  HELEN 

Dobbins  !  he  often  looks  the  picture  of  despair !  Some 
fair  ladies  are  not  agreeable  everywhere." 

"  How  can  you  expect  a  woman  of  Olivia's  intelligence 
and  education  to  put  up  with  such  a  husband  as  that  ?  She 
is  superior  to  him  in  every  respect." 

"I  think  not,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 

"Well,  well,"  interposed  the  hostess  ;  "  it  appears  Mrs. 
Grey  is  to  receive  her  friends  at  Allbreeze." 

"You  go  to  the  wedding,  of  course  ?"  asked  Julia. 

"  I  suppose  so.  I  am  told  Mr.  Grey  has  requested  that 
the  cards  should  not  be  sent  out  until  after  the  ceremony. 
Some  fanciful  notion.  What  a  pity  !"  added  the  lady, 
•with  a  sigh.  "  You  heard,  I  imagine,  that  there  was  a 
rich  viscount  in  Paris  desperately  in  love  with  Helen.  How 
much  better  it  would  have  been  had  she  married  him !" 

"I  think  not,"  again  ejaculated  Marvell. 

"You  always  think  not,  Mr.  Marvell,"  said  the  little 
•widow.  "I  am  afraid  you  never  will  marry." 

"That  is  most  probable,"  replied  Harry,  with  a  smile; 
"  and  a  fortunate  thing  for  your  sex,  dear  madam.  I  should 
have  made  a  very  bad  husband — so  exacting,  so  tyrannical !" 
and  noticing  that  Mrs.  Grantly  was  about  to  leave  the  table, 
the  gentleman  rushed  forward  and  handed  the  hostess  into 
the  drawing-room. 

We  leave  this  interesting  party  to  their  own  resources, 
and  return  to  our  more  congenial  friends  at  Allbreeze. 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.      •   343 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

IT  was  one  of  those  glorious  autumnal  days  which  Nature 
grants  her  children  before  retiring  to  her  long  and  drowsy 
rest.  The  sun  shone  brightly  upon  the  old  place,  giving  it 
a  peculiarly  cheerful  appearance,  notwithstanding  its  leaf- 
less trees  and  drooping  plants.  The  chrysanthemums,  those 
last  joys  of  the  florist,  peered  forth  in  their  variegated 
charms ;  their  sweet  perfume  mingled  with  those  of  the 
pines  and  cedars,  filling  the  air  with  a  delightful  aroma. 
The  noble  bay,  studded  with  a  thousand  sails, — its  blue 
waters,  as  they  reflected  the  bright  sunbeams,  sparkling 
like  myriads  of  diamonds,  presented  so  much  life  and  ani- 
mation, that  one  could  not  help  exclaiming,  with  the  same 
enthusiasm  as  the  French  naturalist — 

"  0  America !  thou  art  indeed  the  land  of  promise ! 
From  thy  veins  shall  gush  life  and  hope  for  generations  to 
come  !" 

So  thought  our  heroine  as  she  gazed  upon  the  admirab'e 
landscape,  on  the  morning  of  her  wedding-day;  but  her 
mind  soon  recalled  the  memory  of  that  distant  land  of  en- 
chantment, scarcely  less  beautiful,  where  her  beloved 
friend  lay  in  the  cold  grave ;  and  a  tear  fell  on  the  cheek 
which  but  a  minute  before  had  flushed  with  patriotic  en- 
thusiasm. 

"Why  so  pensive,  fair  lady?"  said  Alice  Irving,  as  she 
stood  at  Helen's  side.  "  On  such  a  day  as  this,  methinks, 
naught  but  smiles  should  be  seen." 


344  HELEN  LEESON: 

"I  was  dreaming  of  Laura,  Alice." 

In  one  instant  the  expression  of  the  little  Quakeress  8 
countenance  changed.  This  was  a  theme  upon  which  her 
sensitive  nature  was  easily  affected.  No  one  had  mourned 
more  truly  and  sincerely  than  Alice,  when  the  sad  intel- 
ligence of  the  death  of  the  countess  reached  her  friends  in 
America. 

"  Oh,  Helen !  if  you  allude  to  that  suhject,  I  shall  be 
wretched  all  day.  And,  for  poor  Aunt  Seraph's  sake,  it  is 
essential  that  we  should  all  make  an  effort  to  shake  off  the 
gloom  which  hangs  over  us." 

"Yes,  yes  ;  you  are  right,  Alice." 

At  that  moment  Anna  came  in,  holding  a  splendid 
bouquet.  "  This  was  sent  over,  just  now,  for  you, 
sister,"  said  the  young  girl.  "  I  suppose  Walter  did 
not  think  our  green-house  plants  fine  enough  for  his 
bride." 

"  Very  ridiculous  !"  replied  Helen.  "  When  people  are 
as  poor  as  we  are,  why  squander  money  on  such  trifles? 
It  is  magnificent !  But  see  here,  Anna ;  you  did  not 
read  this.  I  thought  Walter  could  not  be  so  unreasonable," 
she  added,  as  she  detected  a  card  which  had  been  partially 
concealed  among  the  flowers,  and  read  the  name  of  our 
friend  Mac  Tavish.  "  How  kind  !"  she  exclaimed  ;  and  for 
an  instant  she  thought  of  the  influence  the  young  Scotch- 
man had  exercised  over  her  fate. 

"  I  always  maintained  he  was  a  fine  fellow,"  said  Alice. 
"  Now,  Helen,  let  me  take  another  look  at  your  presents. 
Here  is  your  vail,  a  gift  from  Emma  and  Herman;  these 
bracelets,  from  George  Murray  and  Robert ;  this  silver  tea- 
set,  from  Mrs.  Murray ;  this  diamond  pin,  from  that  old  uncle 
of  Walter's.  What  a  charming  man  he  is !  Really,  if  I 
had  not  given  up  matrimony,  and  if  I  were  not  somewhat 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         345 

scrupulous  about  marring  your  prospects^  I  would  set  my 
cap  for  him !" 

"  Do,  Alice  ;  I  should  be  delighted  to  call  you  aunty!" 

"  Well,  I'll  see  about  it.  Where  is  Mrs.  Grantly's 
present,  Elly?" 

"Oh!  that  immense  knicknack  ?"  said  Anna.  "lean- 
not  understand  why,  knowing  us  to  be  by  no  means  well 
off,  Aunt  Grantly  did  not  send  you  something  useful, 
sister !" 

"  It  probably  never  occurred  to  her  that  I  could  possibly 
want  any  thing  useful.  Those  who  enjoy  every  luxury  in 
life,  are  apt  to  forget  that  others  are  less  favoured.  And 
then,  you  know,  aunt  does  not  approve  of  my  match ;  she 
has  only  seen  Walter  once." 

"  Ridiculous  !"  said  Alice.  "  Why,  Boget,  what  have 
you  there  ?"  she  added,  taking  a  box  from  the  hands  of 
the  worthy  seamtress,  who  stood  to  see  the  contents. 

"  An  ermine  cape,  from  Uncle  Horace ;  and  what  I  value 
still  more,  a  sweet  note,"  said  Helen. 

"  I  do  declare,  that  is  beautiful !  The  Grantlys  are 
creeping  up  in  my  esteem  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Irving. 

"  And  Jackson  has  just  brought  in  an  elegant  basket  of 
flowers  from  Mr.  Marvell,  Miss  Helen ;  I  put  it  in  the 
front  parlour,"  added  Boget. 

"Are  we  going  to  have  showers  of  goodies  ?"  inquired 
Alice — "  some  of  your  crystal  jellies,  Mrs.  Boget  ?" 

"  I  never  succeeded  so  well,  Miss  Alice.  You  can't 
imagine  any  thing  so  delicious,  and  my  blanc-mange  is 
wonderful,"  continued  the  good  woman. 

"  Is  Aunt  Seraph  in  her  room  ?"  asked  Helen. 

"  Yes,  miss." 

"  I  will  leave  you  for  a  few  minutes,  girls  ;  I  must  see 
aunt  a  moment."  And  the  young  girl  proceeded  to  Miss 


346  HELEN    LEESON: 

Marsy's  apartment.  In  the  hall,  Helen  met  her  mother, 
For  an  instant  both  were  folded  in  a  fond  embrace. 

"My  precious  one!"  whispered  the  devoted  parent; 
"  are  you  to  be  taken  from  me  so  soon  ?" 

"  Only  for  a  little  while,  mother.  I  wish  Walter  had 
been  willing  to  remain  here  until  to-morrow ;  but  he  says 
•we  will  not  reach  New  York  in  time  for  the  cars  in  the 
morning.  I  cannot  bear  the  idea  of  leaving  you  to  go  to 
a  hotel.  Well,  I  suppose  it  is  all  right.  These  little  trials 
prepare  us  for  the  great  ones  of  this  world.  One  more 
kiss,  mother  dear.  I  owe  aunt  a  visit  before  I  prepare  for 
the  grand  ceremony;"  and  she  entered  Miss  Marsy's  room. 

Aunt  Seraph  sat  with  her  back  toward  the  door,  so  en- 
tirely lost  in  thought  that  she  heard  not  the  light  step ; 
and,  as  Helen  glanced  over  her  shoulder,  she  saw  the 
Bible  in  her  hand.  It  was  opened  at  the  book  of  Job. 

"  The  Lord  gave ;  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,"  muttered 
the  old  lady. 

"Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  added  the  young 
girl,  as  she  knelt  before  the  dear  friend,  and  laid  her  head 
on  her  shoulder. 

"  My  fair  child,  you  here,  in  this  atmosphere  of  gloom, 
when  happiness  shines  so  brightly  upon  you?" 

"  Would  I  not  be  unworthy  of  God's  bounty,  if,  in  the 
midst  of  his  blessings,  I  felt  not  for  those  who  are  in 
pain  ?  No,  no ;  the  Lord  grant  that  I  may  never 
know  that  bitter  selfishness  which  shuns  the  sufferings  of  a 
fellow-being !  But,  aunt,  I  came  in  to  tell  you  of  a  piece 
of  gallantry  which  I  received  from  Uncle  Horace,  and 
about  two  flowery  homages  which  were  brought  just  now 
from  Mr.  Mac  Tavish  and  Harry  Marvell." 

"  Very  thoughtful !"  said  Miss  Marsy.  "  When  adver- 
sity has  settled  down  as  an  inmate  of  one's  household,  it 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK   SOCIETY.  347 

is  gratifying  to  see  that  it  does  not  keep  off  all  one's  for- 
mer friends.  It  is  always  agreeable  to  me  to  discover  such 
amiable  traits  in  my  brethren  of  this  egotistical  world.  Is 
Walter  here,  darling?" 

"No.  I  have  not  seen  that  gentleman  since  yestor- 
day  morning.  He  left  me  to  attend  to  some  urgent  busi- 
ness, and  did  not  expect  to  be  here  until  this  morning  at 
twelve  o'clock,  just  in  time  for  the  ceremony.  I  was 
inclined  to  scold,  but  I  never  can  find  words  to  express  my 
discontent." 

"That  is  most  lucky,"  replied  Aunt  Seraph,  smiling. 
"  Ah  !  here  is  my  Arty,  dressed  off  in  his  dismal  finery 
for  the  wedding." 

The  child  walked  in  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  holding  up 
his  head,  and  smiling  with  conscious  pride. 

"Arty  very  fine!"  said  the  little  fellow.  "Elly  not 
dressed — lazy  girl." 

"Yes,  my  pet,"  she  answered,  as  she  placed  him  on 
Miss  Marsy's  lap. 

"  Oh,  I  remember  something,"  he  said,  whispering  in 
his  aunt's  ear. 

"You  are  right,  my  boy.  I  would  have  forgotten 
it."  Aunt  Seraph  rose  and  opened  her  wardrobe,  from 
•which  she  took  a  small  parcel.  "  Here  it  is,  Arty,"  she 
said. 

The  delighted  child  presented  it,  with  a  graceful  bow,  to 
Helen,  saying — 

"For  my  dear  Elly." 

"  Oh,  aunt,  I  cannot  accept  this !"  exclaimed  the  young 
girl;  as  she  opened  the  small  package  which  contained  a 
purse  full  of  gold.     "  You  have  already  given  me  my  out 
fit ;  that  was  more  even  than  I  should  have  received.    No, 

no;  I  cannot." 

30 


848  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  This  is  not  from  me,  dearest,"  said  Miss  Marsy,  with 
sadness.  "  Read  the  contents  of  this  paper  outside  of  the 
purse." 

Helen  opened  it  and  read — "  From  Laura  to  her  sister, 
on  her  wedding-day." 

Tears  of  mingled  sorrow  and  joy  at  the  link  which  stil 
bound  the  loving  hearts  gushed  from  Helen's  eyes,  and, 
for  a  moment,  both  ladies  wept  in  silence. 

"Don't  cry,  aunty — Elly,  don't  cry!"  said  little  Ar- 
thur. "  Nina  says  my  darling  mamma  is  in  heaven,  and 
hears  and  sees  Arty,  and  she  is  preparing  a  home  for  all 
in  God's  paradise." 

These  sweet  words  of  hope  from  the  angel's  lips  were 
more  soothing  than  a  whole  volume  of  pathetic  eloquence. 

The  breakfast-bell  rang. 

"  Go  down,  darling,"  said  Miss  Marsy;  "I  will  be  with 
you  in  a  few  moments.  Arty,  take  Helen's  hand  ;"  and,  as 
they  left  the  room,  the  mourner  knelt  in  prayer.  Fervent, 
ardent  it  was.  She  rose,  and  casting  one  sad  glance  to- 
ward the  broad  ocean,  she  muttered — "  Farewell,  my  child, 
until  to-morrow.  Farewell,  Laura  !"  and  Aunt  Seraph  ap- 
peared at  the  breakfast-table  with  her  usual  expression  of 
mildness  and  contentment. 

The  hours,  that  morning,  flew  by  so  swiftly,  that  twelve 
o'clock  was  striking  in  the  hall  before  all  were  in  readiness 
for  the  great  event. 

The  parlours  had  been  ornamented  with  flowers  by  Anna 
and  Alice.  The  furniture  shone  with  unusual  brightness, 
and  the  immense  wood  fires  gave  the  old  homestead  an  air 
of  peculiar  comfort,  which  was  felt  by  all  the  intimate  circle 
who  met  that  morning  to  witness  Helen's  nuptials.  We 
can  easily  mention  them,  for  they  were  not  many:  Mrs. 
Murray  and  her  son,  of  course ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grantly, 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        349 

the  latter  arrayed  in  her  gorgeous  weeds,  (the  word  is  not 
too  powerful  for  laces,  bugles,  &c. ;)  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry 
Grantly ;  Emma  and  her  husband ;  the  Irvings  and  Mrs. 
Walker ;  and  last,  but  not  least,  old  Doctor  Clifford  and 
Mr.  Emerson  Grey. 

Helen  was  finishing  her  toilet,  a  plain  silk  dress  with 
flounces,  the  rich  lace  vail,  and  a  simple  wreath  of  orange- 
blossoms — not  one  jewel.  But  what  ornament  could  have 
increased  her  beauty,  as,  with  downcast  eyes,  she  entered 
the  drawing-room,  leaning  on  her  brother's  arm  ?  An 
exclamation  of  admiration  greeted  the  entrance  of  the  bride. 
The  minister  stood  in  readiness,  and  once  more  the  sacred 
words — "  Helen,  will  you  take  Walter  to  be  your  wedded 
husband  ?"  sounded  in  the  young  girl's  ear.  All  the  events 
of  the  past  months  recurred  to  her  memory.  It  seemed 
like  a  dream ;  hut  how  delightful  the  sensation,  as  the 
reality  burst  upon  her  mind,  and  she  turned  to  receive  the 
congratulations  of  the  friends  who  had  given  so  many  proofs 
of  true  affection ! 

Let  us  not  tarry  to  describe  the  slight  occurrences  of 
the  day — the  cosy  chat  which  all  enjoyed  after  the  cere- 
mony, the  walk  through  the  park,  &c. ;  and  when,  at 
two  o'clock,  Jackson,  who  had  ornamented  his  coat  with  a 
white  satin  ribbon  in  honour  of  his  young  mistress's  wed- 
ding, came  forward  with  a  grin  and  a  bow,  saying — "  Din- 
ner is  ready,"  all  were  prepared  to  appreciate  the  many 
delicacies  which  were  crowded  on  that  plentiful  table,  over 
which  Mrs.  Boget's  genius  had  presided  with  unusual 
anxiety. 

At  four  o'clock  Helen  left  the  parlour,  and  went  to 
change  her  dress.  She  was  to  leave  for  New  York  that 
afternoon,  as  she  had  said,  much  to  her  annoyance. 

It  was  with  a   beating   heart  that   our  heroine  parted 


350  HELEN  LEESON: 

with  the  dear  ones,  and  bid  farewell  to  the  old  place,  to 
which,  however,  she  was  to  return  very  soon.  But  the 
emotions  of  the  day  had  been  many;  and  as  Helen  entered 
the  carriage,  she  buried  her  head  in  the  cushions,  and  wept 
in  silence  for  a  few  moments. 

"  Will  not  my  Helen  trust  her  happiness  to  me  ?"  whis- 
pered the  young  man,  as  he  took  the  little  hand. 

"  Oh,  Walter !  I  am  yours — your  property — to  be  dis- 
posed of  at  your  bidding,  and  that  with  perfect  trust ;  but 
I  so  ardently  wished  to  remain  at  home  for  a  day  or  two !" 

"Your  home  is  here,  my  beloved,"  he  said,  as  he  gently 
drew  her  toward  him. 

"A  blessed  one  it  is!"  she  murmured.  "No,  I  will 
not  complain,  feeling  confident  that  you  have  acted  wisely 
in  requiring  me  to  leave  Allbreeze  to-day.  You  must  be 
right," 

"  To-morrow  I  will  explain  my  motive  to  you,"  he 
replied. 

"  Walter,"  said  Helen,  as  they  were  driving  up  Broad- 
way, "  tell  me,  since  our  engagement  has  it  never  oc- 
curred to  you,  that  a  girl  brought  up  as  I  have  been  would 
be  an  extravagant,  unreasonable  wife  ?  and  will  you  not 
be  astonished  if  I  prove  the  very  pattern  of  order  and 
economy?" 

"I  have  sometimes  thought,  with  soriow,"  he  answered, 
"  how  inefficient  my  means  would  be  to  afford  you  that 
position  in  society  to  which  you  are  so  well  entitled,  and 
which  my  affection  would  so  eagerly  have  provided  for  you. 
But  I  have  thought,  too,  judging  you  by  myself,  that  you 
could  be  happy  in  a  modest,  humble  home,  which  I  nope 
my  exertions  will  obtain  before  long.  You  know  uncle 
has  offered  me  most  liberal  terms  to  enter  into  business 
with  him  on  the  first  of  January,  I  being  the  active  partner 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.        351 

in  the  concern.     This  is  all  I  could  desire ;  and  if  you  are 
satisfied,  I  shall  be  perfectly  happy." 

"  Satisfied  !  Oh  !  how  ungrateful  I  should  be  to  Provi- 
dence, if  I  valued  not  the  inestimable  gifts  which  have  been 
bestowed  upon  ine  !  and  how  wrong  I  was  to  repine  in  un- 
controlled despair  at  the  mysterious  combination  of  circum- 
stances which  one  year  ago  made  me  your  wife !  I  was 
racing  on  the  path  of  pride  and  ambition,  my  better  judg- 
ment crushed  by  the  grasping  passion ;  so  blind  that  I 
hated  you,  Walter ;  and  still,  it  could  not  have  been  ha- 
tred, for  I  remember  the  soothing  effect  the  sound  of 
your  voice  produced  upon  me  on  that  terrible  night. 
No;  I  hated  the  fate  which  made  me  yours,  but  not 
you.  I  cannot  acknowledge  such  a  feeling,"  she  added, 
smiling. 

"  Extremes  meet ;  that  accounts  for  the  mystery,"  he 
replied.  "  With  me  it  has  been  very  different.  The  same 
ardent  devotion  has  filled  my  heart  since  I  first  beheld 
your  sweet  face." 

"  Are  we  not  going  to  the  Union  Hotel,  Walter  ?"  asked 
Helen. 

"  Yes;  but  I  want  you  to  see  Emma's  new  house  first." 

"It  is  almost  dark." 

"  We  can  see  it  in  a  few  minutes.  I  promised  Herman 
to  show  it  to  you." 

The  carriage  stopped  at  a  fine  house  in  Twenty-third 
Street,  between  Madison  and  the  Fourth  Avenues.  Walter 
led  his  wife  up  the  steps. 

"  This  is  a  beautiful  situation  ;  and  how  pretty  the 
parlours  are!"  said  Helen,  as  she  walked  through  the 
drawing-rooms,  which  contained,  in  fact,  every  thing  that 
could  contribute  to  comfort — all  selected  with  taste.  The 
gas  was  burning  everywhere. 

30* 


352  HELEN   LEESON: 

"  Now  let  me  take  you  up  stairs,"  said  Walter ;  "  it  will 
only  detain  us  a  moment,  and  you  will  be  fully  repaid  for 
the  exertion." 

Helen  followed  him ;  and  as  she  entered  the  front  room, 
Mhich  was  furnished  with  a  great  deal  of  elegance,  she 
paused  and  looked  around  in  tremulous  surprise,  for 
over  the  mantel-piece  hung  the  Madonna  and  child  which 
had  attracted  her  admiration  at  Reinsbach,  and  between 
the  windows,  before  a  pier-glass,  stood  the  same  marble 
pedestal  with  its  coronet  of  golden  grapes. 

"  Walter,  how  came  these  precious  relics  here  ?  I 
thought" — then  noticing  the  peculiar  smile  on  her  hus- 
band's countenance,  she  added,  "  Oh,  tell  me,  what  does 
this  mean  ?" 

"Merely,"  he  replied,  as  for  an  instant  he  knelt  before 
the  trembling  girl,  "  merely  that  this  house  and  furniture 
are  yours — a  gift  from  my  uncle  to  his  niece,  and  that,  as 
your  vassal,  I  crave  the  privilege  of  sharing  this  modest 
home  with  my  lady-love." 

"  This  is  too  much !"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  threw  herself 
in  his  arms. 

A  gentle  knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  and,  upon  Wal- 
ter's saying,  "Walk  in,"  Mrs.  Boget  made  her  appearance. 

"You  here,  my  own  Bogot?"  said  Helen. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  child.  Your  mother  and  I  thought  it 
would  not  do  to  give  you  the  trouble  of  housekeeping  so 
soon.  Roger  settled  every  thing  here  yesterday,  and  1 
left  Allbreeze  an  hour  before  you  did.  We  know  how  to 
keep  a  secret,  don't  we,  Mr.  Walter?" 

"  We  do,  indeed,  Boget.  I  find  you  are  a  capital  hand 
at  any  thing  you  undertake ;  but  your  jellies  beat  all  the 
dainties  I  ever  tasted." 

The  old  woman  bridled  up  with  satisfaction. 


A   PEKP   AT   NEW    5TOKK    SOCIETY.  853 

"Tea  is  ready,  master,"  said  Roger,  appearing  at  the 
door. 

"  We  are  coming." 

"  Before  we  go  down,  Elly,  let  me  show  you  how  I  have 
distributed  our  new  home,"  continued  Walter,  taking  his 
wife's  arm.  "  You  must  know  that  your  mother,  Miss  Marsy, 
and  even  Anna,  were  initiated  to  my  secret ;  and  it  was  with 
some -difficulty  that  I  prevailed  upon  them  to  agree  to  my 
plans  for  this  winter.  I  was  certain  tnat  you  would  not 
be  happy  away  from  all  the  dear  ones,  and  I  felt  that  it 
was  wrong  to  deprive  them  of  your  society.  There  is 
plenty  of  room  for  all  here,  and,  I  trust,  they  will  never 
have  reason  to  regret  the  arrangement  which  I  have  forced 
upon  them.  This  is  your  mother's  and  Anna's  room,"  he 
added.  "  This  little  boudoir  I  furnished  for  the  sweet 
child  who  has  quite  won  my  affection:  she  is  an  angel !" 

Helen  spoke  not — her  heart  was  too  full.  The  fondest 
dream  of  her  loving  spirit  was  realized.  She  had  made  a 
solemn  promise  to  Laura  to  replace  her  with  Aunt  Seraph; 
and  now,  through  the  kindness  of  her  husband,  the  task 
was  made  easy ;  and  her  sainted  mother  would  thus  enjoy 
the  inestimable  comforts  of  a  happy  home,  where  nothing 
would  be  left  undone  by  her  children  to  obliterate  the  bitter 
impressions  of  the  past. 

"  There  is  Miss  Marsy's  apartment,"  said  Walter,  as  he 
led  Helen  to  the  second  story.  "  I  did  not  furnish  it,  be- 
cause she  insisted  upon  doing  so  herself.  This,"  he  added, 
"is  to  be  a  surprise — may  it  afford  her  consolation  !"  and 
he  pointed  to  the  full-length  portrait  of  the  young  countess, 
which  had  been  taken  in  Paris. 

Laura,  in  the  delicate  sensitiveness  of  her  nature, 
knowing  that  death  would  soon  deprive  her  more  than  pa 
rent  of  the  light  which  had  shed  its  benignant  rays  ovei 


354  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  last  nineteen  years  of  her  life,  had  been  anxious  to 
leave  her  aunt  a  souvenir  by  which  the  memory  of  her 
adopted  child  would  be  ever  present  in  her  own  bright 
form,  divested  of  that  crushing  gloom  which  death  leaves 
in  its  train.  She  was  taken  in  a  white  muslin  dress,  low 
in  the  neck,  and  short  sleeves ;  her  golden  curls  falling  on 
her  shoulders; — the  very  personification  of  the  Laura  Elliot 
who  had  captivated  the  Italian  nobleman. 

"  What  a  beautiful  creature  !"  whispered  Walter,  as 
Helen  stood  looking  at  the  painting,  her  eyes  clouded  with 
tears. 

"  Poor  Laura  !  What  a  sad  fate  was  hers !  And  so 
pure — so  perfect — so  noble-hearted  !"  sighed  the  weeping 
girl. 

"  Come,  darling,  come ;  it  is  quite  late,"  said  her  hus- 
band, as  he  gently  led  her  from  the  sad  contemplation. 

On  the  following  morning  the  happy  couple  started  for 
Philadelphia,  and  reached  Washington  that  night.  They 
spent  a  week  most  agreeably  in  the  capital  of  our  great 
country,  and  returned  to  New  York  full  of  joy  and  hope 

Mrs.  Leeson  and  Aunt  Seraph  insisted  upon  leaving  the 
young  people  alone  to  the  complete  enjoyment  of  their 
honey-moon ;  and  it  was  only  after  the  Christmas  holi- 
days that  the  family  consented  to  take  up  their  abode  in 
Twenty-third  Street.  We  did  not  mention  that  a  room 
had  been  also  prepared  for  Robert,  whose  altered  life  and 
habits  proved  a  soothing  balm  to  his  poor  mother  in  her 
sorrow. 

We  need  not  describe  the  mingled  pain  and  pleasure 
which  assailed  poor  Aunt  Seraph,  as  the  exquisite  vision, 
bequeathed  by  Laura's  love,  burst  upon  her.  She  wept 
and  smiled,  while  little  Arty,  in  the  delight  of  his  childish 
unconsciousness,  exclaimed — 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  355 

"  Speak,  mamma,  speak !"  and  ran  down  to  Walter  and 
Helen,  saying — "  Mamma  is  up-stairs,  in  my  room ;  she  has 
come  back  to  Arty." 

"No,  darling !"  said  Helen,  as  she  folded  the  little  one 
in  her  arms;  "but  we  will  all  go  to  her  one  day,  J 
trust." 


356  HELEN  LEESON: 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

OUR  story  is  drawing  to  a  close,  gentle  reader.  In  fact, 
it  would  have  been  concluded  in  the  last  chapter,  were  it 
not  that  we  feel  in  duty  bound  to  throw  some  light  upon 
the  fate  of  two  or  three  of  its  actors,  who  have,  we  trust, 
afforded  you  sufficient  entertainment  to  claim  your  tender 
interest. 

Let  us,  then,  with  the  privilege  granted  to  all  builders 
of  ethereal  fabrics,  leap  over  two  years,  and  introduce 
you  once  more  into  the  family  circle  in  Twenty-third 
Street. 

It  is  morning,  about  ten  o'clock.  Helen — who,  faithful 
to  the  promise  she  made  her  husband  on  her  wedding-day, 
has  become  a  thorough  housekeeper,  an  orderly,  economical 
wife — is  attending  to  the  many  domestic  duties  which 
devolve  upon  an  American  lady  in  these  days  of  independ- 
ent servants.  These  over,  she  went  up  to  her  room,  and 
was  about  to  make  her  usual  morning  calls  upon  her  mother 
and  Aunt  Seraph,  when  the  door  opened,  and  Alice  Irving 
came  in.  "  Welcome,  dear !  How  delighted  I  am  to  see 
you !"  said  Helen. 

"  I  came  early,  because  I  have  something  to  tell  you, 
which,  I  trust,  will  please  you,"  replied  Miss  Irving. 

"Any  thing  which  interests  you,  Alice,  will  certainly 
produce  that  effect.  But  why  do  you  blush  so  ?  Shall  I," 
she  added,  smiling,  "  spare  you  the  trouble  of  this  great 
disclosure,  and  confess  that  this  very  morning  Robert  has 
acknowledged  the  whole  affair  to  me  ?" 


A  PEEP  AT  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY.         357 

"  Indeed  ?  Oh  I  then,  I  am  relieved  of  an  immense 
responsibility.  Did  you  suspect  any  thing,  Elly  ?" 

"  I  always  suspected  your  partiality  for  the  poor  boy ; 
but  it  was  only  a  few  weeks  ago  that  I,  or  rather  Walter, 
discovered  Robert's  attachment  for  you.  And  what  do 
your  parents  say,  Alice  ?" 

"  They  are  charmed !  Aunt  Martha  declares  Robert 
is  a  pattern  for  all  young  men.  She  entirely  approves, 
and  I  am  so  happy  to  become  your  sister,  Helen !" 

"Nothing  could  give  me  more  pleasure.  You  know 
Robert  has  his  apartment  here,  and  we  are  ready  to  wel- 
come you." 

"  Oh,  no !  Aunt  Martha  says  we  must  go  to  housekeep- 
ing. She  has  promised  to  provide  all  for  us." 

"Will  you  see  Mrs.  Smith?"  asked  Mrs.  Boget,  as  she 
entered  Helen's  room. 

"  Yes,  of  course.  By-the-by,  Boget,  where  is  my 
daughter  ?" 

"  Up  stairs  with  Miss  Marsy.  She  spends  her  life 
there,  playing  with  Arty.  Poor  Miss  Seraphina  was 
crying  over  the  baby  just  now,  calling  it  her  little  Laura  I" 

"  How  thoughtful  in  you  to  give  your  child  that  sweet 
name,  Helen,"  observed  Alice. 

"  I  knew  it  would  gratify  aunt,  and  to  me  it  is  associated 
with  all  that  is  pure  and  beautiful.  Emma,  how  are  you?" 
she  added,  kissing  her  friend. 

"Very  well — remarkably  well.  Alice,  good-morning. 
Are  we  alone,  girls  ?"  said  our  quondam  favourite  Emma,  in 
her  usual  merry  tone.  "  I  have  something  most  astonish- 
ing to  announce  to  you.  Contrary  to  the  great  poet, 
I  say,  if  you  have  smiles,  prepare  to  show  them  now. 
Let  me  sit  down,  first,"  she  added,  "for  I  am  really 
quite  overcome." 


858  HELEN  LEESON: 

"You  appear  to  be,"  said  Alice,  laughing.  "Now, 
pray  hurry,  Emma.  I  am  dying  to  know  your  secret." 

"  Yes,  for  we  have  an  important  one  to  communicate  to 
you,"  added  Helen. 

"  Indeed  ?  Well,  let  me  hear  yours  first.  After  all, 
it  may  be  the  more  interesting,  although  I  rather  think 
they  are  very  much  of  the  same  nature.  I  will  men- 
tion both  at  once.  Alice,  you  are  engaged  to  Robert 
Leeson.  That  blush  says  yes.  Very  well ;  I  entirely 
approve,  and  wish  you  joy.  Now,  the  other  astounding 
intelligence  is,  the  engagement  of  my  sister,  Julia  Smith, 
•with  Mr.  " 

"Mac  Tavish!"  exclaimed  Helen.  "At  last  he  has 
found  a  sensible  woman ;  and  she  has  chosen  an  excellent 
fellow  !" 

"  Yes,  and  all  managed  by  me.  Oh !  I  beat  Aunt 
Grantly  completely  in  the  art  of  manoeuvring.  You  must 
know  that  I  have  always  had  a  tender  regard  for  Mr.  Mac 
Tavish,  for  private  reasons." 

"  Publicly  known,"  said  Alice. 

"  Well,  that  may  be.  There  is  nothing  at  all  dishonour- 
able about  it ;  all  ladies  will  be  admired  sometimes.  But 
that  is  nothing  to  the  matter.  Last  winter,  I  tried  very 
hard  to  have  Julia  with  me  for  a  few  months,  but  her  mo- 
ther was  too  delicate  to  spare  her.  This  year,  I  made 
arrangements  to  have  both  ladies ;  and  as  Mr.  Eric  is  a 
friend  of  Herman's — one  of  our  regular  diners — of  course 
he  had  many  opportunities  of  appreciating  Julia's  real 
worth,  which  is  rendered  still  more  attractive  by  her  sweet 
manners.  In  short,  the  mouse,  is  caught,  and  so  enchanted, 
it  is  quite  farcical." 

"Engagements  shower  upon  us,"  said  Helen.  "We 
have  scarcely  had  time  to  talk  over  George  Murray's  with 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  359 

little  Grace  Orland.  There,  too,  there  are  many  happy 
faces." 

"  They  are  to  be  married  in  three  weeks,  are  they  not?" 
inquired  Alice  Irving.  "  And  surely  you  are  going  to  the 
wedding,  Helen?". 

"  I  don't  know,  indeed.  I  have  not  been  out  since  my 
marriage,  and  I  really  have  nothing  to  wear.  In  these 
extravagant  days,  a  whole  month's  allowance  for  a  woman 
who  dresses  moderately  well  cannot  purchase  a  toilet  to 
compete  with  the  fashionables  of  our  society — a  sad  state 
of  things  !" 

"Ah!  my  little  Anna,  how  are  you?"  said  Emma,  as 
she  rose  and  welcomed  the  young  girl,  who,  like  all  sweet 
spirits  hovering  here  below,  wore  the  same  angelic  expres- 
sion which  characterized  her  when  first  she  met  us,  some 
three  years  ago. 

"  Have  your  scholars  gone,  Puss  ?"  asked  Helen,  as  she 
made  room  for  her  sister  on  the  couch.  "  How  many  have 
you  now?" 

"  Ten — very  nice  ones,  too." 

"  Where  do  you  teach  them,  Anna  ?  Don't  they  annoy, 
you  a  great  deal?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Boget's  room  in  the  basement  is  mine  until  twelve 
o'clock.  They  give  me  very  little  trouble ;  and  as,  besides 
the  elementary  studies,  I  require  neat  sewing,  knitting, 
etc.,  from  my  pupils,  I  believe  the  morning  is  profitable  to 
the  poor  children." 

"It   is,    indeed.     And  have   you   many   sick   to    visit 

liOW?" 

"  Some  ;  not  as  many  as  in  the  fall." 
"  It  is  always  a  wonder   to   me,"  interrupted   Alice, 
"  where  Anna  finds  the  means  of  relieving  all  her  poor." 
"God   provides   mysterious    resources   for   his   agents, 

81 


860  HELEN  LEESON: 

Alice,"  said  the  sweet  girl,  smiling.  "  If  you  promise 
not  to  tell,  I  will  initiate  you  to  one  or  two  of  my  secret 
springs  of  wealth." 

"Do." 

"  Well,  Aunt  Seraph  is  an  inexhaustible  one  ;  and  since 
Helen's  marriage,  Uncle  Emerson,  the  kind  old  man  we 
all  love,  has  been  the  best  of  friends  to  my  poor.  He  is 
always  sure  to  guess  when  I  am  short  of  money." 

"Dear  child!"  said  Emma,  as  she  rose;  "you  are  too 
good  for  this  world." 

"/She  calls  all  the  blessings  of  heaven  upon  us," 
said  Helen.  "  What  a  short  visit  you  are  making  us, 
Emma !" 

"  I  left  the  lovers  in  close  confab,  and  I  am  afraid  it 
will  be  prolonged  until  dinner-time,  if  my  superior  wisdom 
does  not  reappear  on  the  premises.  Farewell,  ladies !  I  will 
come  soon  again.  .  A  cozy  chat  with  you  is  such  a  treat ! 
I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  had  enjoyed  a  rare  pleasure  last 
week.  Professor  Arnory  dined  with  us.  What  a  genius 
he  is  !  By-the-by,  Helen,  do  you  ever  hear  from  M.  de 
Cerny?" 

"  I  have  not,  for  a  long  time.  He,  too,  was  one  in  a 
thousand." 

"  Let  me  see,"  added  Emma,  "  I  had  something  more  to 
tell  you  ;  I  always  stand  an  hour  talking  before  I  go. 
Did  you  hear  of  Mrs.  Seyton's  dismay  when  George  Mur- 
ray's engagement  was  announced  to  her  ?  She  is  trying 
it  now  for  old  Dalton,  who,  from  all  accounts,  will  be  car- 
ried off  in  his  next  attack  of  gout.  And  it  is  said  that 
Julia  Elvington  has  become  religious.  Now  that  is  all, 
girls  ;  I  must  go.  Oh  !  I  forgot  Anna  was  present :  she 
will  call  me  uncharitable.  Don't,  dear  :  I  am  not,  indeed 
•--only  fond  of  a  joke  now  and  then.  Farewell !" 


A   PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  361 

Two  weeks  after  this  meeting  of  the  old  friends,  Helen 
Bat  one  afternoon  expecting  her  husband's  return  from  his 
business. 

The  little  one,  whose  coming  had  been  welcomed  with  so 
much  joy  in  the  family,  played  on  the  mother's  lap ;  and 
the  affectionate  gaze  which  beamed  upon  the  cherub  added  a 
new  charm  to  the  many  our  fancy  has  bestowed  upon  our 
heroine. 

"  Ah  !  there  is  some  one  who  loves  my  blessing  !"  she 
exclaimed,  as  Walter  came  in.  The  first  look,  the  first 
caress  was  for  the  child ;  then  giving  it  to  Sophie,  (whose 
attachment  for  her  young  mistress  had  been  proof  against 
all  the  reverses  the  family  had  met  with,  and  who  had  en- 
treated for  the  privilege  of  nursing  little  Laura,)  the 
young  man  sat  near  his  wife,  and  handed  her  two  letters, 
saying — 

"  News  from  your  French  and  Italian  friends,  Helen. 
May  I  take  a  nap  while  you  peruse  these  epistles  ?" 

"  Yes ;  but  I  won't  promise  not  to  wake  you.  One  mo- 
ment, Walter.  Here  is  a  letter  from  the  marchioness, 
so  sad — so  sweet !  Dear  old  lady  !  I  wish  she  could 
come  over  to  us.  Oh,  this  is  from  Madame  de  Mornay. 
Only  think,  Blanche  de  Cerney  is  married  to  Gustave ! 
I  don't  know  when  I  have  heard  any  thing  so  agreeable." 

"Monsieur  de  Mornay  was  a  great  admirer  of  yours, 
was  he  not?"  asked  Walter,  with  an  arch  expression. 

"  A  friend,  and  perhaps  an  admirer  ;  but  his  heart  was 
Blanche's  long  before  he  knew  me  ;  that  I  saw  at  once." 

"  Luckily  for  poor  unworthy  me,  otherwise  Mrs.  Grant 
ly's  dream  of  your  becoming  the  Viscountess  de  Mornay 
would  have  been  realized.      I  don't  wonder ;   it  sounds 
much  more  euphoniously  than  Mrs.  Grey." 

"  Walter !     Well  no ;    I  will  not   allow  myself  to   be 


862  HELEN  LEESON: 

annoyed  by  this  little  teasing  of  yours,  which,  once  in  six 
months,  casts  a  slight  shadow  upon  the  horizon  of  iny  hap- 
piness." 

"Does  it  produce  that  effect,  my  own?"  he  said,  kissing 
the  lovely  head  which  rested  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Then  away  with  it,  forever !  I  would  not,  for  worlds, 
give  you  one  moment  of  pain,  my  precious  one  !" 

"I  thought  so,"  she  whispered. 

Oh  woman,  with  such  weapons,  thou  art  all-powerful ! 
In  thy  weakness,  Heaven  has  provided  thee  with  irresistible 
arguments ! 

"  What !  five  o'clock,  you  little  siren  ?  I  shall  keep 
uncle  and  Marvell  Avaiting,"  said  the  fond  husband,  as  he 
rose  and  hastily  made  his  toilet. 

We  have  said  that  the  establishment  at  No.  —  Twenty- 
third  Street  was  administered  with  a  great  deal  of  order 
and  economy  ;  we  should  have  added,  with  our  friend  Mar- 
vell, as  he  rose  from  table,  that  Mrs.  Grey  gave  very 
good  dinners,  not  perhaps  as  elaborate  as  those  of  Grantly 
Hall,  but  more  wholesome,  inasmuch  as  a  kindly  feel- 
in  ir,  mingled  with  bursts  of  intellect,  animated  the  guests, 
and  greatly  contributed  to  the  appreciation  of  the  good 
cheer. 

"  You  don't  really  say  that  we  shall  be  deprived  of  see- 
ing you  next  week  at  Mrs.  Murray's  reception  ?"  said  the 
gentleman  of  fashion,  who,  with  the  elasticity  of  temper 
and  manners  which  we  have  already  acknowledged  in  him, 
had  retained  his  former  stand  in  the  friendship  and  good 
opinion  of  Helen  and  her  husband. 

"  I  am  afraid  so.  You  know,  I  have  not  yet  left  off  my 
mourning,  and  I  have  lost  the  habit  of  going  out  in  the 
evening  so  entirely,  that  it  would  really  be  a  great  exer- 
tion." 


AT   NEW   YORK    SOCIETY.  363 

"Helen,"  said  Aunt  Seraph,  in  her  gentle  way,  "it 
would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  have  you  go  to  this  wed- 
ding." 

"  To  H  sure,"  added  Mr.  Emerson  Grey.  "  I  never 
have  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  my  pretty  niece  in  a  ball- 
dress,  and  certainly  no  one  has  a  better  right.  Come, 
come,  Mr.  Marvell,  lend  us  your  eloquence,  and  we  will 
win  the  game,  and  you  shall  be  rewarded  by  the  favour  of 
a  dance  with  this  fair  lady.  I  wish  I  could  be  her  part- 
ner." 

Marvell,  or  rather  the  desire  expressed  by  the  kind 
friends  around  her,  finally  prevailed  upon  the  young  wife ; 
but  still  the  expense  of  the  dress  was  a  difficulty  not  easy 
to  surmount.  True,  Walter  had  said — 

"  Now,  Elly,  pray  order  a  suitable  toilet  for  George's 
wedding.  Not  black  :  let  it  be  handsome,  for  I,  too,  will 
enjoy  seeing  my  treasure  in  her  own  sphere  as  queen  of 
beauty." 

But  Helen  knew  her  husband's  means  were  limited,  and 
still  how  could  she  disappoint  him  ? 

That  morning  a  slight  cloud  hung  over  her  brow,  as 
she  reflected  upon  the  possibility  of  extricating  herself 
from  this  trifling  annoyance,  when  Anna  came  in,  and, 
with  an  expression  of  satisfaction,  she  placed  a  box  at  her 
sister's  feet,  saying — 

"  This  was  left  for  you  just  now  by  Emma.  She  was 
driving,  and  could  not  stop." 

The  box  contained  a  white  moire  antique,  rich  flounces 
of  thread-lace,  an  exquisite  coiffure -of  white  feathers,  and 
a  note,  with  these  few  words — 

"  Having  bespoken  a  beautiful  performance,  it  is  but  fair 
that  I  should  furnish  the  means.  What  better  use  can  I 
make  of  what  will  be  yours  one  day,  my  dear  child  ?  If 

31* 


364  HELEN  LEESON: 

the  selection  does  not  meet  with  your  approbation,  blame 
Mrs.  Smith.     Your  uncle  and  friend,  E.  GREY." 

This  was  Uncle  Emerson's  style ;  peculiar,  it  may  ap- 
pear, but  full  of  genuine  kindness  it  certainly  was.  So 
thought  Helen,  as  she  exclaimed — 

"  This  is  entirely  too  fine  !  I  cannot  accept  such  an 
expensive  present!" 

Scarcely  had  the  words  escaped  her  lips,  when  little 
Arthur  came  running  into  her  room,  saying — 

"  Here  is  a  note  for  you,  Elly." 

This  time  the  tears  fell  fast,  as  Helen  read — 

"  My  darling,  if  the  departed  dear  ones  claim  our  sor- 
row and  regret,  the  living  are  entitled  to  our  smiles  and 
joy.  Do  not  deprive  us  all  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Wal- 
ter happy  and  proud  of  his  wife.  I  enclose  $100,  which 
must  be  appropriated  to  that  purpose  alone. 

"  Your  ever-attached  and  grateful     AUNT  SERAPH." 

"How  have  Z,  unworthy  one,  deserved  so  much  love?" 
exclaimed  Helen. 

"  Simply  by  walking  steadily  in  the  path  of  duty," 
whispered  Anna.  "  There  lies  the  secret.  Did  we  but 
understand  the  sacred  truth,  how  much  suffering  could  be 
avoided  !  how  much  might  we  not  accomplish  toward  that 
blessed  end  all  should  toil  for  !  Happy  are  those,"  added 
the  pious  girl,  "who,  at  their  last  hour,  can  say,  'Lord, 
I  have  done  no  wonderful  deeds — no  glorious  actions 
Lave  marked  my  way,  but  I  have  fulfilled,  in  meek  hu- 
mility, the  task  thy  wisdom  allotted  to  me.  Thou  canst 
not  refuse  the  reward  promised  to  the  execution  of  thy 
will.'  " 

"  Amen,"  whispered  Helen,  and  for  a  few  moments  she 
remained  absorbed  in  deep  meditation.  She  thought  of 
that  morning  at  Mrs.  Murray's,  three  years  ago,  when  the 


A    PEEP   AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  365 

proud,  arrogant  girl  of  fashion  was  called  upon  to  select  a 
fancy  dress  for  the  simple,  unpretending  Grace  Orland — 
a  gift  from  the  friend  who,  with  the  hand  of  affection, 
had  raised  the  young  girl  to  the  pinnacle  of  happiness, 
wealth,  and  social  position — to  a  footing  of  equality  with 
the  haughty  ones  who  had  spurned  the  humble  Daisy — 
and  now  claimed  her  as  her  own !  Circumstances  had 
changed,  fortune  had  played  its  capricious  game,  and 
Helen  was  receiving  from  her  devoted  relatives  the  very 
favour  which  had  made  little  Grace's  heart  flutter  with 
joy  on  the  eve  of  the  flower-ball.  And  was  there  any 
bitterness  in  the  acknowledgment  of  the  obligation  ?  No ; 
the  salutary  lesson  of  adversity  had  not  been  learned 
in  vain  ;  it  had  purified  the  immortal  spirit,  had  torn  off 
its  garment  of  worldliness,  and  arrayed  it  in  robes  of 
charity  and  love  ;  and,  as  Anna  had  said,  by  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  simple  duties  which  fall  unnoticed,  unap- 
preciated to  the  lot  of  many  tortured  by  doubt  and  fear, 
Helen  had  become  worthy  of  the  pure  enjoyment  granted 
to  the  elect.  She  had  tasted  the  sanctifying  draught  of 
humility  and  gratitude. 

The  dress  was  ready  for  the  day  of  George  Murray's 
wedding  ;  and  an  exclamation  of  sincere  admiration  again 
welcomed  our  heroine,  not  only  in  the  family  circle  at 
home,  where  Uncle  Emerson  stood  transfixed  by  the  beau- 
tiful vision,  but  also  in  the  world  of  fashion,  where  she 
appeared  once  more  as  the  belle  of  belles. 

"  My  sweet  child,"  said  Mrs.  Murray,  as  she  met  her 
young  friend,  "  what  a  fortunate  man  Walter  has  been ! 
My  George,  too,  is  blessed;  our  little  Grace  is  an  angel!" 

"  She  is,  indeed,  dear  lady.  God  has  sent  the  reward 
your  many  virtues  so  richly  deserve.  What  a  brilkant  re- 
ception you  have  this  evening  !" 


366  HELEN  LEESON: 

"  May  I  claim  the  fulfilment  of  Mr.  Grey  s  promise  ?" 
asked  Harry  Marvell,  as  he  came  forward  arid  offered  his 
arm  to  Helen. 

A  look  from  Walter  obtained  an  affirmative  answer  for 
the  delighted  beau,  who  carried  off  his  fair  partner. 

Walter  did  not  dance  ;  and,  as  his  eye  followed  his  wife, 
he  thought  of  the  many  clouds  which  had  darkened  hia 
life  before  the  light  of  affection  had  dawned  upon  it. 
How  much  pride  and  love  there  was  in  that  intent  gaze  ! 
and  when,  late  in  the  evening,  they  met  in  the  library,  and 
stood  in  admii-ation  of  the  little  marble  group  which  was 
connected  with  the  most  important  epoch  in  the  history  of 
their  mysterious  attachment,  Walter  pressed  her  hand  in 
silence. 

"Mr.  Mac  Tavish,"  said  Helen,  as  the  young  Scotch- 
man came  toward  her,  "  I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of 
congratulating  you  upon  your  engagement.  You  know 
what  a  sincere  interest  I  take  in  your  welfare." 

"I  do,  indeed,"  he  replied  ;  "  and,  I  may  say,  it  is  my 
due ;  for  no  friend  has  watched  your  happiness  more 
closely,  dear  lady,  and  has  rejoiced  more  truly  at  its  be- 
ing so  perfect,  than  poor  Eric.  But,  do  answer  me  one 
short  question.  How  long  have  you  known  this  lucky 
fellow?" 

"  I  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Grey  in  Switzerland," 
replied  Helen,  blushing. 

"  Indeed!  very  strange!"  said  the  young  man.  "Well, 
1  was  mistaken  for  the  first  time." 

"You  dine  with  us  to-morrow,  Mac  Tavish,  to  meet 
your  lady-love  ?"  said  Walter,  as  they  were  leaving  the 
ball-room. 

"  Oh  !  I  shall  not  forget  it.     Good-night." 

The  lovers,  for  they  were  lovers  still,  drove  home,  if 


A    PEEP    AT    NEW    YORK    SOCIETY.  367 

possible,  a  shade  happier  than  when  they  left  it.  There 
was  a  slight  tinge  of  poetry  in  the  tender  link  which 
brought  them  back  to  the  first  days  of  their  married  life. 

"  Let  me  look  at  you  once  more,  Elly,"  said  the  fond 
husband,  as  she  stood,  still  attired  in  the  elegant  ball-dress, 
gazing  upon  the  sleeping  angel.  "  Oh !  how  beautiful  thou 
art,  uiy  precious  !"  he  whispered,  and  again  folded  her  to 
bia  heart. 

Reader,  we  now  bid  you  farewell,  with  grateful  thanks 
for  your  kind  companionship  through  the  regions  of  fancy. 

We  have  taken  a  glimpse  at  fashion  together ;  we  have 
seen  its  faults  and  deplored  its  weaknesses;  but  we  have 
found,  also,  that  among  its  votaries  there  are  many  noble 
hearts — much  intrinsic  worth.  Let  us,  then,  be  indulgent 
to  its  errors,  and  trust  that  a  beneficial  reform,  founded 
upon  moderation  and  sound  reason,  will  insure  to  the  mem- 
bers of  our  community  the  blessings  of  social  intercourse, 
without  incurring  the  sacrifice  of  those  sacred  principles 
which  God  has  engraved  upon  every  man's  heart  to  guide 
him  through  life,  and  for  which  he  will  be  answerable,  one 
day,  to  the  Omnipotent  Judge. 


THE    END. 


WERIOTYPED  BY  L.  JOHNSON  *   CO. 
PHILADELPHIA, 


